


KEEP ME IN YOUR CORNER

by boneshrine



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - MMA, Alternate Universe - Underground Fighting, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Erotic Massage, Face-Fucking, Fingering, Frottage, M/M, Manhandling, Medical Procedures, Mixed Martial Arts, Semi-Public Sex, Sports injuries, Unprotected Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 20:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22004014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boneshrine/pseuds/boneshrine
Summary: Baekhyun's first healthcare-related job offer comes from an unlicensed gym that belies an underground fighting ring. He might be in way over his head, but that's alright. Kyungsoo's got his back. Probably.(The illegal fighting ring AU no one asked for, in which Baekhyun is a doctor/cutman who can't keep his mouth shut and Kyungsoo is an MMA fighter who makes short shorts look way too good.)[ For "Erotic Massages" in Top!soo Fest Round 3 ]
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Do Kyungsoo | D.O
Comments: 137
Kudos: 645
Collections: top!soo fest: round 3 (2019-2020)





	KEEP ME IN YOUR CORNER

**Author's Note:**

> this plot is inspired by Kiss With A Fist by iamdali!
> 
> the only medical training i have is basic first aid/cpr and wilderness first aid! my consulting doctor for this fic is google, m.d. :)

PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Passive**  
A Perfect Circle  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 4:10  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


"Excuse me? There's whipped cream in this. I didn't want whipped cream. Can you make a new one?"

Four years in a pre-med undergraduate degree with a GPA of 3.8. A score of 36 on the MCAT. Another four years of med school for allopathic medicine, and then four years of an internship and residency.

After all of that, Baekhyun Byun works as a barista at a coffee shop.

It's this damn economy. The hospital he did his residency at doesn't have any open positions for him right now, "But you'll be the first we call if anything opens up." They're always hiring for EMTs, and although he's overqualified for that, it would keep him in the healthcare field. But the coffee shop pays more, and his monthly payment on his student loans isn't something he can ignore.

On the bright side, at least he looks cute in his barista outfit. Personally, Baekhyun thinks he looks good in anything. He'd look downright _sexy_ in a lab coat. Sometimes he tells himself that he isn't a doctor yet because the universe isn't ready for the sexiness of Dr. Baekhyun Byun, a lab coat on his shoulders and a stethoscope around his neck. Nurses would fawn over him. Patients would pretend to be sick just to be seen by him. Children would easily—no, _enthusiastically—_ accept shots because they would be so charmed by one Dr. Byun.

Or something.

The lady didn't even say that she didn't want any damned whipped cream. Baekhyun smiles his most saccharine smile anyways, one that dripped with obviously fake customer servility. "I can certainly make you a new one, ma'am. Free of charge." The look she gives him screams _It better be,_ but she just waits as he puts together another specialty drink—still loaded with enough sugar that it probably tastes more like whipped cream than coffee anyways.

That's how his days pass by: same shit, different day. The café AUs Baekhyun used to love so much really made the barista life seem much more . . . romantic. Instead, it's filled with whiny, impatient yoga moms, kids spilling sticky hot chocolate everywhere, reading fanfiction on his phone in the lulls between rushes, and the growing disgust for the smell of coffee.

Baekhyun _never_ thought he'd get sick of the smell of coffee, considering how much of an addict he was in university. But Baekhyun didn't think a lot of things regarding how his life would turn out, and here he is, almost thirty with nothing notable about his life beyond the almost comical amount of debt he has.

He and Jisoo are the ones to close up shop that evening, and they walk together for just two blocks before Baekhyun has to take a left, and Jisoo turns right with a cheerful wave and a "See you tomorrow, Baek!" Besides cute aprons, the other perks of Baekhyun's job are pretty neat co-workers and a short jaunt to and from the apartment he shares with Sehun, his roommate and best friend since he was a sleep-deprived, hungover college kid.

So, okay. Except for the shitty-but-manageable customers and the weekly emotional meltdowns he has over his bank account, Baekhyun's life isn't the worst. He has friends, his family, his niece and nephew, and they're all in good health. It could definitely be better, but there are pockets of joy here and there, and it's predictable.

Which is why he's caught completely off-guard when he hears a shout of "Leave me the _fuck_ alone!" from an alley on his left.

Let it never be said that Baekhyun has a hero complex. He doesn't. But he does feel compelled to help people; if he didn't, he wouldn't have spent all that time getting his M.D. So he stops and waits for the situation to develop. He can't see whatever's going on behind the dumpsters, but if he's quiet, he can hear.

A second voice: "Kyungsoo, calm down, you're bleeding everywhere—"

"Literally, fuck off."

"You're not a child, stop acting like one."

"And _you're_ not my mom, so stop acting like her."

"Fine. When you're done bleeding out, come back inside and let me take a look at your forehead."

There's no response, and after a pause, a door shutting loudly. It's not quite a slam, but there's definitely something . . . emphatic about it.

Baekhyun holds his breath, waiting for something to happen—a yell, something crashing, anything. But for a full minute, there's nothing. Then, there's a quiet and slurred "Shit." Then silence.

Baekhyun creeps out from the shelter of the dumpster. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness after being out on the well-lit sidewalk. Against a backdrop of shadows, a darker blob manifests on the ground near a door, and a few seconds later, the blob becomes a shadowed figure slumped against the brick wall. It doesn't move, not even when Baekhyun's foot accidentally knocks a glass bottle to the side. "Hey, uh," Baekhyun starts, "are you okay over there?"

When there's no answer, Baekhyun cautiously steps into the alley. The figure doesn't move as he approaches. The tiniest shard of light from the street glances off something shiny on the figure's face.

Blood, and lots of it.

It's all dripping out from a wide-open gash on the man's forehead, and while Baekhyun knows head wounds can look worse than they usually are, this one looks . . . pretty damn bad, actually, from what he can see. It's hard to tell when the wound is covered underneath the mess of blood. A red rivulet trickles down the side of his face, and some of it seeps into the man's gray t-shirt.

Baekhyun feels oddly calm. It shouldn't come as a surprise to him, that he's not panicking; he's trained for this, after all. But training for something and actually experiencing it are two different things.

The man's eyes are shut, his lips slightly parted. "Hey, are you okay?" Baekhyun asks again, a little louder, but the man doesn't react. To confirm his suspicions, Baekhyun kneels down and gently shakes the man's shoulders. "Hey, buddy, are you awake?" he asks, and gets no response.

Baekhyun takes stock of the situation. Patient: Male, mid- to late-twenties. Unconscious. About 5'6, maybe. Muscular build suggests an athletic occupation or hobby. Deep laceration on left side of forehead, between four and five centimeters long. It will need sutures. No other noticeable injuries. No medical bracelet or necklace. Scene: Safe, but not clean. They're alone. There's no one here to help Baekhyun. For good measure, Baekhyun knocks on the door that the men had come out of, knocks _hard,_ but there's no response, and doesn't open when he tries the handle.

Baekhyun can still walk away right now and pretend this never happened. That he never saw anything. No one would fault him for it, because no one would be any the wiser.

But if he starts providing medical care, he legally can't stop until the man is in stable condition, or someone with equal or more training than him can take over.

But what kind of doctor would he be if he just walked away?

"Aw, fuck, dude," Baekhyun groans. "You're really twisting my arm here, aren't you?"

Baekhyun's got nothing but his own flannel button-down on hand, but that will have to do. Carefully, he ties one of the sleeves around the man's forehead, letting the rest of the flannel cover the man's back and sides.

The man stirs, and Baekhyun freezes. "The hell is going on," he says without opening his eyes.

Baekhyun swallows. "You got hurt. I'm gonna call an ambulance and stay with you until the EMTs get here." That's not quite true; having an M.D., in all likelihood, Baekhyun will probably have to go with the ambulance to the hospital until they find an actual E.R. doctor. "Your name is Kyungsoo, right?"

Ignoring the question—although it was more of a clarification than anything else, because Baekhyun is pretty sure that the guy's name is Kyungsoo—the man says, surprisingly loud and clear, "No hospital." Then he hisses out a breath, wincing in pain.

Of course his first real patient is stubborn. Of course. "That cut is really deep. You're going to need stitches." And a tetanus shot, Baekhyun thinks, eyeing the grimy surroundings.

"I'm not going—" a pause here to breathe in slowly, "—to a fucking hospital. Go 'way."

In Baekhyun's very unbiased opinion, he doesn't have a lot of faults. But no one, not even him, can be perfect, and one of Baekhyun's imperfections is that sometimes his mouth moves faster than his brain does. This is one of those times.

"Fine. At least let me bring you home with me so I can patch you up."

"You—" an inhale, "—don't know me."

"I'm a doctor. Kind of. I have doctor training."

"Picking up strays off the street to fix them, huh?"

"Is that a no?"

Kyungsoo doesn't respond, and his head rolls slightly against the brick, using Baekhyun's flannel as a rudimentary cushion. He's out again. Great. Using the flannel to put pressure on the gash counts as medical attention, so Baekhyun has to see this through until he gets Kyungsoo to a hospital, which isn't going to happen, or Kyungsoo tells him to stop, which . . . also isn't going to happen, it looks like.

Back to Baekhyun's apartment it is. "Sehun is going to love this," Baekhyun grumbles as he sets about the task of getting Kyungsoo onto his back.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist  


**Courtesy Call**  
Thousand Foot Krutch  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:56  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


Kyungsoo isn't any taller than Baekhyun, and not that much thicker, either. But his body is heavily muscled, which means he's dense. _Heavy._

It's the complete opposite of Baekhyun, who's always been a bit of a twink, and, as he started getting older, what extra weight he does have comes from fat, not muscle. He's grateful that his apartment is only a handful of blocks away from the alley, because by the time he gets there, he's panting and sweating under the weight of Kyungsoo on his back, just barely holding onto the legs he's hitched onto his hips, and he's never been more thankful for their natural flare. It's a miracle he hasn't dropped Kyungsoo, honestly. He fumbles with his key briefly before getting it into the lock.

Sehun is home. Baekhyun can hear the sounds of the TV in the background. And, fuck, what would Sehun say about Baekhyun bringing home a stranger? About Baekhyun making an O.R. out of their bathroom? No, shit, he can't do it in the bathroom. Not enough room, and Baekhyun can't remember the last time either of them even cleaned it.

Baekhyun's bedroom it is, then.

"Welcome home," Sehun calls out, not turning away from the television. There's some fighting anime on the screen, one of those "new arc, new monster that's somehow stronger than the last" series that Sehun loves so much.

"Hey," Baekhyun says, "give me a sec, I'll be right back out." It's a lie, but it's something Baekhyun would say if nothing were out of the ordinary. Even if Sehun isn't looking, Baekhyun employs one of his other customer service smiles, one that he uses with the silent declaration of, _There's nothing to see here!_

"Mmkay," Sehun drawls, and Baekhyun knows he's won. Ignoring the way his thigh muscles are cramping up, he pushes the door shut with his foot and quickly zips across the living room, passing barely four feet behind Sehun. He doesn't dare breathe until the bedroom door closes behind him.

"Holy shit," Baekhyun says, almost collapsing. He forces himself to stay steady through sheer willpower as he lowers Kyungsoo onto the bed. Although a small spot of blood has seeped through the flannel, it looks like the blood flow has subsided, at least a little bit. Baekhyun has to hurry.

Back during his internship, he bought a pack of practice sutures and fake skin. The fake skin is long gone, but he thinks he's got some extra sutures and thread somewhere. He finds them in his closet, in a box containing the needles, thread, gauze, forceps, bandages, scissors, chlorhexidine, and isopropyl alcohol, along with some other things he won't need. Good. Shout-out for past Baekhyun for being organized with his medical tools if nothing else.

He brings the box to his dresser and spreads out his tools across the counter top for appraisal. The thread pack says it expired last year. It's, uh. Probably okay to use. It's just nylon, right? Nylon doesn't actually expire, does it? He goes to the bathroom to wash his hands and nab a few cotton balls to wipe down the thread and needle he plans on using with the alcohol. He's not sure if it'll help—cleaning something doesn't magically un-expire it—but it does make him feel at least a little better about the whole thing.

"The whole thing." God, he's really doing this, isn't he?

He wipes away some of the blood around the wound with cotton balls, just to get the excess liquid out of the way. He wets a few gauze pads with chlorhexidine and uses those to clean up the rest of the blood and disinfect the wound itself.

The laceration is somewhere between four to five centimeters long. Eight stitches, Baekhyun thinks. He's done facial lacerations before, and even if it's been some time since he's last had a needle in his hand, he remembers exactly what to do, which angle to go in at, how tight to draw the thread. He wishes he had gloves, but he has to settle with washing his hands with the chlorhexidine and hopes for the best.

He wishes he could get some ibuprofen or something in Kyungsoo to dull the pain, and he holds his breath as he makes the first puncture. But Kyungsoo doesn't even stir. His face remains lax the entire time. It's amazing; either he's really out of it, or his pain tolerance is out of this world. His face is motionless throughout the entire operation, and Baekhyun's hands are steady and fast.

It's probably the best suturing job he's ever done. Like, if doctors had portfolios, this would be on the first page. After bandaging the wound, he leans back, letting out a sigh. He hadn't realized how tense he was until his shoulders slump and his fingers relax. There's a pale of used cotton balls and gauze pads that need to be dealt with, and he has no clue how he's going to properly dispose of his suturing needle, but instead of addressing all of that right away, he takes a moment to finally look, really _look,_ at his patient.

Kyungsoo has heavy brows and dark eyelashes. His skin is healthy, but marred by little scars here and there. His hair is a few inches shorter than Baekhyun's, and is the same dark color as his brows, as opposed to Baekhyun's hair, dyed lighter. He's got a really pretty mouth, Baekhyun thinks. Plush, with a defined outline, and there's a tiny scar near the right edge of his upper lip, running vertically up off the pink and into the pale skin above. Baekhyun lets himself imagine licking that scar for approximately two seconds because he's a healthy, virile man, and very, very gay, but then shakes himself out of it because this is his patient and he's a professional.

Well, not literally. But kind of.

He's shaken out of his thoughts by a buzzing sound. A cell phone? Not his, though, that's across the room. Hesitantly, he pulls out Kyungsoo's phone from his pocket. The name "Minseok" flashes on the screen along with a "slide to answer" function, and Baekhyun almost instinctively answers, but stops himself. What would he say? "Hey, I just performed a surgery on your friend(?) in my bedroom in my apartment, I'm a stranger but don't worry, I'll send him on his way when he wakes up, please don't call the police on me." He figures it's best to ignore the text, so he puts the phone on silent and sets it on the space next to his bed.

He tidies up and ends up putting the needle in a plastic bag and leaving it on his desk for right now. He stands in his bedroom, underwhelmed with the lack of fanfare. He just performed a whole ass surgical operation, and there's no one to even _judge_ him for it, let alone compliment him. He sighs and heads out to watch Sehun's anime with him, making sure to shut his door behind him. He pretends to fall asleep on the couch so Sehun can't question why he doesn't sleep in his own bed that night.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Headstrong**  
Trapt  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 4:46  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


Baekhyun wakes up and is incredibly confused as to why exactly he's on the couch for a good ten seconds before he remembers that he brought a stranger home last night and performed an invasive medical procedure in his goddamn bedroom using a suture practice kit and then left him there.

 _Baekhyun Byun,_ what _were you_ thinking? He should have just taken Kyungsoo to the hospital after he passed out. In the event of unconsciousness, consent to receive medical care is implied, so he'd be legally protected if Kyungsoo was actually upset about bringing him to a hospital, right?

Only legally. Physically, Kyungsoo can probably crush Baekhyun like a soda can, if his muscles are anything to go by.

He almost trips over himself to get to his bedroom, but when he opens the door and peers in, Kyungsoo is still asleep. Nothing is out of place. Baekhyun tells himself that he needs to stop panicking. What's done is done, and there's no going back to change it.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, looking at Kyungsoo's face again, impassive with sleep. He really is attractive, Baekhyun thinks. It's a little depressing, how he's got a hot guy in his bed for all the wrong reasons. "You're so handsome," Baekhyun grumbles, both a compliment and a complaint.

"Thanks."

Baekhyun nearly jumps out of his own skin. The words had been said on a sigh, Kyungsoo's lips barely moving, and there's a fleeting moment that Baekhyun wonders if he imagined the sound entirely. Then Kyungsoo's eyes open, his face carefully neutral as they slide over to Baekhyun.

For a lack of knowing what to say, Baekhyun backpedals. "You, uh. Probably weren't supposed to hear that."

"Probably," Kyungsoo echoes, and whether it's Kyungsoo agreeing or merely restating, Baekhyun doesn't know. Kyungsoo's voice is so much deeper than Baekhyun was expecting. It's nice. Somewhere between sexy and soothing. "Where am I?"

"You're at my apartment," Baekhyun says automatically before he realizes how creepy that must sound. Waking up in a stranger's home? Yikes. Baekhyun should have practiced what he was going to say when Kyungsoo woke up. "Um! You were really hurt. I'm a doctor—er—kinda—I mean, I have medical training. And you said you didn't want to go to a hospital, but then you sorta passed out, and no one answered the door when I knocked, so like, I just sorta . . . you know."

"I get the picture," Kyungsoo says. As Baekhyun spoke, Kyungsoo's body had slowly deflated, his tension released by the end of Baekhyun's messy explanation. Baekhyun hadn't realized how stiff he was.

"My name is Baekhyun," he offers.

"Kyungsoo." Baekhyun knew that already, but he nods anyways. Kyungsoo's brows furrow, and he reaches up to prod at his bandage.

"Ah, you should be careful with that," Baekhyun says. "You have eight stitches on that cut of yours. If you're too rough with it you might break it open again."

"Too rough, huh?" Kyungsoo's lips quirked with a hint of a smile, as though Baekhyun had just made a joke. Instead of elaborating, Kyungsoo goes on, "So you gave me stitches in a bedroom."

"With professional tools and procedures," Baekhyun insists. "I'm not just some hoax D.I.Y. guy. I've been through eight years of medical training!"

"Hey, man, I would've just let it scab up. You did more than _I_ would have. So, thanks." Kyungsoo frowns. "I hope you don't think I'm gonna pay you, though."

Compensation had honestly been the very last thing on his mind. "No," Baekhyun says. "I needed the practice anyways. Thanks for being my patient."

"Anytime."

"That's _not_ the correct response. Please don't get hurt again."

Kyungsoo's mouth does his maybe-smile again. Baekhyun wonders what's so funny. Before he can ask, though, Kyungsoo sits up, and Baekhyun immediately holds his hands near Kyungsoo's shoulders, prepared to steady him if need be. But Kyungsoo looks pretty stable, and gives Baekhyun a reproachful eyebrow raise, so Baekhyun retreats, putting his hands back in his lap.

Kyungsoo reaches for his phone, his face blank as he thumbs the screen. "I'm late," he says without explanation. His eyes flick up to meet Baekhyun's. "So, any post-procedure instructions, Doc?"

Doc? That's cute, Baekhyun supposes. Maybe flirty? "Don't touch it or change the bandage," Baekhyun says. "And try to get the stitches removed in about a week. I know you probably won't like this suggestion, but you should consider going to an actual healthcare provider to do that."

"You seem like enough of a healthcare provider to me," Kyungsoo points out, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up in one fluid movement.

Baekhyun follows Kyungsoo through the apartment, thankful that Sehun is still sleeping so he won't have to explain why there's a random guy here. "Wait, no, you can't come back to _me,_ " Baekhyun objects in a whisper. "I mean, yeah, I have my M.D. and everything, but this isn't a licensed clinic, and I'm not a practicing doctor!"

"You just said you practiced on me," Kyungsoo says as he puts his hand on the doorknob. "Ergo, you're a practicing doctor. See you soon, Doc."

"That isn't what I—"

But then Kyungsoo's out the door, a whirlwind come and gone again. Baekhyun stands in place, wondering what the hell just happened. So Kyungsoo . . . is coming back? Maybe? Baekhyun stares at the closed door, reviewing all of his life choices that brought him to this moment.

Sehun sluggishly walks into the hallway on his way to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes as he shuffles along. "Are you talking to yourself again?" he asks. He blinks at the oven clock. "It's not even eight."

"I'm losing my mind," Baekhyun declares with a huff, spinning on his heel to go reclaim his bed.

"Clearly," Sehun snarks after him. Baekhyun doesn't deign to answer.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Go To War**  
Nothing More  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 4:05  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


Baekhyun comes home from work expecting to not eat anything but rice for the third night in a row, because rice is less than two dollars for five pounds and that's all he can afford right now. Instead, he finds a box of leftover food from an Italian-style restaurant in the refrigerator. On it is a note in Sehun's lazy scrawl: 

_BAEKHYUN—  
GETTING REALLY SICK OF OUR HOUSE SMELLING LIKE PLAIN RICE! CHANGE IT UP!  
XOXO SEHUN_

Sehun likes to act like a brat, but he's genuinely the sweetest person Baekhyun has ever met, and Baekhyun is going to tell him as much when he gets home, which should be soon. He's also going to treat Sehun as soon as he gets a job that actually pays enough that he's not living paycheck to paycheck. He takes out the container, dumps the contents out onto a plate, and pops it into the microwave. While he waits, he quickly changes into more comfortable clothes that don't smell like coffee. He idly eats his meal as he checks his email for any news on his most recent batch of job applications. He's not expecting any good news, so he's not disappointed when nothing turns up.

At least, that's what he tells himself. In truth, he can't help the sinking feeling in his stomach, the tightening of his chest.

He's startled out of his gloom by a rapping on the door. Did Sehun forget his key again? Baekhyun opens the door, a jibe already at the tip of his tongue, but it dies before it leaves his mouth, because that's not Sehun waiting in the hallway.

It's Kyungsoo.

The first thing Baekhyun notices is that the bandage is still on his forehead, looking relatively clean. In Baekhyun's experience, keeping a wound clean _after_ any sort of procedure can be more important than the operation itself, so a clean, intact bandage is a good sign.

He's wearing a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. They look good on him. Baekhyun is willing to bet money that he'll look good in anything.

"I didn't actually think you'd be back," Baekhyun hears himself say.

Kyungsoo leans against the door frame. "I said I'd be back, didn't I?"

"I told you that I won't remove your stitches!"

"You weren't being serious," Kyungsoo says with a certainty that comes less from boldness and more from knowledge. "Besides, that's not the only reason I came back."

Baekhyun's watched enough porn that he can hear the next line, something like _I wanted to_ thank _you for what you did for me . . ._ or _I have something else I want you to check out for me, Doctor, but I have to take off my pants . . ._ "Um?"

Kyungsoo's face sours at how squeaky Baekhyun's voice is. "Whatever you're thinking, it's not it."

"Of course it's not!" Baekhyun replies before realizing how incriminating that sounds. "I mean, I wasn't thinking anything!" It sounds like a lie even to his own ears.

Kyungsoo steps forward, and Baekhyun instinctively moves out of the way to let him in, which was absolutely not the plan. Baekhyun hovers in the corner, his face pinched as he deliberates on what he should do.

Noticing his turmoil, Kyungsoo turns to him. "Look," he says almost reasonably, "no matter what you say, I'm not going into a clinic. And if you won't remove them, I'll remove them myself."

Baekhyun doesn't doubt that. He sighs, and his shoulders slump in resignation. Kyungsoo's lips quirk in that almost-smile that Baekhyun is quickly beginning to associate with him.

"Are you always this stubborn?" Baekhyun grumbles.

"No," Kyungsoo says simply, and doesn't elaborate.

So that's how this sorta-stranger ends up back in Baekhyun's bed in the least sexy way possible. When Baekhyun removes the bandage, he's pleased to see that the wound has closed up nicely. There are no signs of infection or reopening. The sutures easily give way under his forceps and scissors, and Kyungsoo remains quiet to let him concentrate on the delicate task at hand.

He puts a clean bandage on the wound to reduce chances of infection while it finishes scabbing over. When he finally finishes, his eyes flick back to Kyungsoo's to find that they're already looking at him, and his heart trips over its own beat. He takes a deep breath and moves away. "You're all done," he says, voice strained.

Oblivious to Baekhyun's gay-induced suffering, Kyungsoo says, "Thanks, Doc."

"Not really a doctor," Baekhyun reminds him.

"That's actually the other thing I came to talk to you about," Kyungsoo says. "The place I work at is hiring for a doctor. Medic. Thing."

Baekhyun squints at him. "Thing?"

"A gym medic, if I were to give it a title. I work for a private gym as an MMA fighter, and my boss has been looking for a doctor to work there permanently, so we don't have to send people to clinics or make our coaches provide first aid. It's easier to do everything in-house."

Mixed martial arts, huh? That explains his body shape, and his pain tolerance. Also explains why he thought it was so funny when Baekhyun told him to stop getting hurt. For a split second, Baekhyun thinks, _No way. This is too perfect._ Then he actually considers the type of job being offered to him, and he shakes his head. "I can't. I didn't specialize in sports medicine. You should probably find someone that knows more about athletes . . ."

"No, really, it's fine," Kyungsoo insists. "It's less of a 'sports physician' role than it is a 'cutman' one. You know, like dealing with bruises, cuts, nosebleeds during matches. That sort of thing. And you can obviously deal with those." He gestures to his newly-bandaged forehead. "Any help that you can provide outside of matches will be helpful, too, but no one's looking for some sports know-it-all who won't let us do our job just because of a sprained ankle or something."

"Of course not," Baekhyun agrees absently, the gears in his brain speeding up. Then his eyes narrow. "Wait, how did you know I was looking for a job?"

"I didn't," Kyungsoo says, shrugging. "I just knew that we needed someone with a medical background, and you have one, and we probably pay more than what you're making if you're not a doctor, like you keep saying."

Baekhyun snorted but felt a smile pull across his lips. "Awfully presumptuous of you, don't you think?"

"I prefer the term 'hopeful.'" Kyungsoo studies Baekhyun for a long moment, and Baekhyun wonders if it's his imagination that gives him the view of Kyungsoo's eyes flicking down somewhere below Baekhyun's nose. Then the other is standing back up, and the moment breaks. "Anyways, the gym is just a few blocks from here. You should come back with me, check it out. Meet the boss man."

Baekhyun feels distinctly hoodwinked. "What, right now?"

"If you're not doing anything." He raises an eyebrow, as though declaring that he knows Baekhyun had not in fact been doing anything of note.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Red Cold River**  
Breaking Benjamin  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:20  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


So that's how Baekhyun ends up following Kyungsoo back to the alley where Baekhyun had found him for the first time. Kyungsoo pulls out a set of keys from his pocket, and one of them gets them through the alley door. It occurs to Baekhyun that he probably could have fished those keys out of Kyungsoo's pocket that night, instead of taking him home, but what's done is done. The hall they enter is poorly lit, and looks like it hasn't been cleaned in a long while. Echoes of music from farther down the hall bounce off of the white brick walls, and they grow louder as they walk. It smells like stale sweat and a staph infection waiting to happen.

"Nice place," Baekhyun cautiously says.

Kyungsoo must hear the sarcasm, because he throws a knowing look over his shoulder and says, "Yeah, it's shit. Don't let looks fool you, though. There's money, and we're well-equipped."

Baekhyun can't make accurate judgments on quality because the only gyms he's ever been in are the ones that divorcees in their thirties and forties frequent when they're ready to rejoin the dating pool: small, new, with lots of natural light and televisions.

This gym has one giant room with various pieces of exercise equipment, a handful in use by athletes with impressive builds. The room is lit a harsh white by light panels mounted into the ceiling, and one in the corner flickers sadly. There's another corner clear of equipment and instead has mats across the floor. On the wall opposite them, there's a stairway leading up to a room with windows overlooking the gym.

"It smells like an armpit," Baekhyun comments, scrunching his nose.

He swears he hears a quiet huff of laughter, but when he looks at Kyungsoo, the other's face is impassive. "That's the smell of victory," Kyungsoo says.

"No, that's the smell of athlete's foot," Baekhyun says, and Kyungsoo doesn't correct him, but there's another quiet noise. Baekhyun can't stop himself from thinking that he'd maybe like to see the way Kyungsoo laughs when he's not holding back.

"Is this that doctor of yours, Kyungsoo?"

The voice comes from a man approaching them from the side. He's short, maybe even shorter than the two of them, but he's got arms that look like they could rip Baekhyun in half. It's completely at odds with his youthful face. Oh, shit, Baekhyun thinks distantly. He's hot too.

Before Baekhyun can process the possessive wording, the newcomer flashes a smile. "Hey, I'm Minseok, Kyungsoo's coach. It's nice to meet you, Doctor . . . ?"

"Just Baekhyun is fine," Baekhyun says, shifting uncomfortably. Being addressed as a doctor in this context feels weird. If it were a friendly, sterile clinic, and he were wearing a lab coat with an orderly tag with his name engraved on it, then that would feel right. As it stands, he's in an old, grimy gym wearing . . . 

. . . old sweatpants and a raggedy t-shirt he's had since high school. Oh, god. This was potentially a job offer and he looks like shit.

While Baekhyun quietly has a crisis, Minseok claps a hand on his shoulder, almost making him jump in surprise. "Glad to have you on the team, Baekhyun," he says. Then, to Kyungsoo, he continues, "Once you have him settled in, start your warm-ups, okay?"

They talk as if Baekhyun already agreed to work here. Kyungsoo is unphased. "Sure thing, Coach." Minseok pats Kyungsoo's arm twice as he passes.

Kyungsoo leads Baekhyun across the gym floor to the stairs. At the landing, he stops, rapping gently on the door. He waits until a voice calls out "Enter!" Before actually doing so, he fixes Baekhyun in a meaningful stare.

"Don't joke around with him," he says. "He'll sign your paycheck but don't try to be friends with him, okay?"

"That's so fucking ominous, Kyungsoo, what the fuck," Baekhyun says, feeling a little terrified. Kyungsoo's only response to that is opening the door.

The room is small but organized and clean, as opposed to the rest of the facility. There's not much to clean, though, Baekhyun supposes; just a few filing cabinets, chairs, and a desk with a computer. At the desk sits a sharply dressed young with a distinctly feline mouth and sharp eyes. He smiles at them. "Hello, Kyungsoo. Ready for your fight this week?"

Is everyone who works here just very attractive?

"Ready and eager," Kyungsoo replies, but there's a new, flatter tone to his voice, guarded.

"Good to hear." His eyes flick over to Baekhyun, calculating, but the winning smile stays in place. He can't be much older than thirty, if he's older than Baekhyun at all. "Who is this?

An introduction is at the tip of Baekhyun's tongue, but Kyungsoo beats him to it. Is Kyungsoo trying to keep him from talking as much as possible? That ominous feeling is back again. "This is Baekhyun. He has medical training, and we're hiring for an in-house doctor, so . . ."

"I see," the man says, his eyes never leaving Baekhyun's once. His gaze becomes even sharper.

Yeah, definitely something fishy going on here.

"He's good," Kyungsoo says, and Baekhyun thinks he's talking about Baekhyun's knowledge and skill, but the follows up with, "I was the one who approached him."

Just like that, the man's face relaxes, and his words suddenly flow freely. "I see! That's great, then. My name is Jongdae Kim. I own and run this facility. We haven't had a proper doctor in a while, but with our roster growing as fast as it is, I can't keep putting off hiring another." He leans back in his chair and turns back to his computer screen. Now sounding distracted, Jongdae continues, "Kyungsoo can show you to the health office. You start tomorrow. Take the day to inventory what supplies we have and make a list of what you need. Get me that list by four tomorrow, and I'll have your supplies delivered by Kyungsoo's fight on Friday night. Welcome aboard."

It's a clear dismissal. Logically, Baekhyun knows that there were periods in there to separate multiple sentences. But Jongdae rattles off his set of instructions as though he is a man with a very finite amount of time and that pausing to represent punctuation is a waste of it. He's so busy trying to parse through what was told to him that Baekhyun doesn't realize he's been hired until he and Kyungsoo are at the foot of the stairs.

"Wait," Baekhyun says. "Wait, did he just . . . hire me? Without asking if I wanted to be hired?" The hoodwinked feeling is back tenfold.

"If you don't want to work here, you can go tell him that yourself. I'm not holding your hand." He peers at Baekhyun. _"Do_ you not want to work here?"

Baekhyun takes a deep breath and looks out at all of the exercise machines that he doesn't even know the names of, the sweaty athletes using them. It won't be a glamorous job. It's not sweet-talking kids into taking medicine or reassuring patients that he knows what he's doing.

But it's closer to that than serving coffee.

"Well," Baekhyun says with an exaggerated sigh, propping out a hip and planting his hand on it, "Mr. Kim made it sound like you needed me. And I always wanted to be a doctor to help out people in need. It's in my nature."

Kyungsoo snorts. "Ah, yes, out of the goodness of your heart." He brushes his hand against Baekhyun's wrist, and Baekhyun feels his nerves light up at the contact. "Follow me. I'll show you to your new work space."

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Call You Out**  
Flyleaf  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 2:19  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


When Baekhyun gets back home, he tells Sehun about his new job offer. Sehun's response is a "Good, you need a job closer to what you studied." A pause. "Also, when you get your first paycheck, you're treating me."

It's a fair enough request, and one that Baekhyun was planning on doing even before Sehun made it, even if Baekhyun whines at him for "already taking advantage of my new wealth before I even get it."

Then, Baekhyun quits his job at the coffee shop via email.

It's impulsive. He doesn't know if this new job as a—a medic, he's decided to go with, because he doesn't want to associate the gym with "doctor," and "cutman" sounds grody—is going to stick. If it's going to pay enough to cover the loan payments, even if Kyungsoo insists it will out-pay anything the coffee shop can offer him, "if the right person goes down," whatever that means. He doesn't know if he's going to like it, for as much as his personal enjoyment counts towards his employment decisions. His coworkers will be sad to see him go, but will most likely be understanding. For most of them, it's not a job they're looking to make a career out of.

For the first time in a long time, Baekhyun feels like he's taking a step forward.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Like a Ghost**  
Of Mice & Men  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 4:47  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


The next morning, he uses his new key to let himself into the gym through the alley door. It's early enough that no one else seems to be here yet, but that suits Baekhyun just fine. He'd rather get to his new office without being waylaid by strangers. He can nag Kyungsoo to introduce him to everyone later.

Located in a room inside the locker room, Baekhyun's office is almost too small to be called that. The actual room itself is a decent size, but there's a desk, two cots, and cabinets and drawers that make the leftover space almost too tight to navigate. There might be a way, Baekhyun thinks, to reorganize and condense things enough to get rid of a cabinet and at least one set of drawers. He cracks his knuckles and gets to work.

Inventory mostly involves writing down all the things he could possibly need working in a clinic for athletes because there's not a lot of things here that can be used. There's lots of wrappers and empty packages, so unless the previous medic was an absolute slob, the mess is probably from athletes and coaches in a hurry to get first aid and leave again. And almost all of the remaining equipment and medicine are at least a year past their expiration dates, and some even more than two or three.

As he goes about his work, the gym slowly fills with sounds of use. He can hear the faintest sounds of music muffled through his walls. Louder are lockers slamming and (mostly) good-natured jibes. Once or twice, the sound of heavy metal equipment slamming into place.

Around noon, there's a knock on his door, which he's kept closed all day to ward off strangers. He expects Kyungsoo, but it's the coach, Minseok, who pops his head in. He looks around curiously at the gutted drawers and cabinets, the upended bins and baskets. "You've certainly been busy."

Baekhyun feels his face heat up. "I know it's a mess right now, but I have to completely reorganize everything. It's easier to just take everything out first."

Minseok smiles. "Relax. I was just teasing. Hey, if you have a minute, did you want to come meet everyone you'll be working with?"

Baekhyun assents and sets aside the box of wraps he had been organizing. He follows Minseok through the halls and into the gym itself, and Minseok makes the rounds to present Baekhyun to different people, like Jongin, Yixing, and Zitao, all fighters. Everyone greets him kindly, expressing excitement at the prospect of having a real medic for once.

Junmyeon, another coach like Minseok, makes an expression of relief when he finds out Baekhyun's position. "Oh, thank God," he says. "It's a pain to have to focus on both giving advice and patching these guys up during matches."

"Agreed," Minseok says, patting Baekhyun's shoulder. "He's a good addition to the team."

Chanyeol, another fighter, has a completely different reaction. His handsome face immediately breaks into a smile upon Minseok's introduction. "Ah, so _you're_ Baekhyun," he says with a tone of voice that suggests . . . something.

"Park, I will end you," says a familiar voice. Kyungsoo, who had been absent up until now, is suddenly at Baekhyun's side, a mildly irritated twist in his expression.

"Save it for a real match, buddy," Chanyeol says, his megawatt smile not dimming in the slightest at the threat. "I'm _always_ in your corner."

Kyungsoo scoffs. "Yeah, biggest fucking cheerleader." Without waiting for a reply, he puts a hand between Baekhyun's shoulder blades, steering him away from the other fighter. "Ignore anything he says, Baekhyun. He's a good guy but he's also full of shit." Behind them, Minseok quietly laughs.

Baekhyun's read enough fanfiction to know that in a romance novel, this entire exchange—this _Oh, so_ you're _that person_ —would most likely mean that Kyungsoo has said something about Baekhyun's dashing good looks, or how pretty his hands are, and doesn't want Chanyeol to reveal his crush. But this isn't a romance novel, which means that it's more likely that Kyungsoo has complained about what an idiot Baekhyun is for taking a stranger home with him instead of to a clinic, or how he looks thirsty as a man in a desert whenever he looks at literally any of these fighters. Seriously, aren't professional boxers or whatever supposed to be big meatheads with muscles in awkward places? Why is everyone so hot?

Belatedly, he realizes that Minseok is talking. ". . . mostly everyone. Some of the fighters have a rest day, but we can introduce them later."

"You'll get to know them better soon enough," Kyungsoo adds. "Everyone's got an old injury that acts up every now and then. A trick ankle, a bad knee. In this business, if you're not hurt, you're not doing it right."

Baekhyun winces, remembers this same matter-of-fact tone telling him _anytime_ in response to being Baekhyun's patient, or telling Baekhyun he'll be back to have his sutures removed instead of seeing someone in a professional setting. "Kyungsoo, I need you to know that literally everything you say stresses me out."

That's how Baekhyun discovers that when Kyungsoo smiles, his mouth is shaped like a heart. It's cute. Kyungsoo is cute and hot and it's absolutely terrible for Baekhyun's blood pressure.

Baekhyun loiters around while Minseok and Kyungsoo start talking about a new routine Minseok made for Kyungsoo. He notices there's a man in the corner of the gym on some sort of weight-lifting machine. He has a pretty face. He also looks like he can and will twist Baekhyun into a human pretzel, but that quality seems like it's becoming par for the course in regards to most of the guys working here. After a pause in the conversation, Baekhyun nods his head in the man's direction. "Who's that?"

Minseok and Kyungsoo follow his gaze, and Kyungsoo's upper lip lifts up with a hint of a snarl. "That's Luhan. He's a dick. Stay away from him."

"Luhan isn't bad," Minseok placates. "He just doesn't like _you._ He'll be fine with Baekhyun."

Kyungsoo doesn't answer, but the dark expression on his face makes Baekhyun's stomach lurch anxiously.

(It's also, if Baekhyun's being honest, kind of hot.)

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Indestructible**  
Disturbed  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 4:38  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


Jongdae follows through on his promise to have Baekhyun's requisitions delivered by Friday. He's got medication, basic equipment, and even a whole ass mini-freezer for ice and electrolyte drinks. Most of the equipment and medication is professional-grade, too, not over-the-counter. One would need a license or prescription to purchase some of these things. Baekhyun wonders just what sort of connections Jongdae has in order to acquire these things, but he's also very sure that he doesn't want to know. He has a feeling it might be best to stay in the dark for this one.

By the time he has to start getting ready for the fight, he has the entire health office organized to his standards. Everything is even labelled, so if anyone needs to get something when he's not around, they'll be able to find it quickly. He was right about condensing things; he pulled out a cabinet and two drawer sets by the end of the day, emptied of their contents and no longer needed. For now, he'll leave them in the hallway. He can ask Minseok what to do with them later.

He finally emerges from his office around half past six. The fight starts at seven, so he should probably double check with Minseok what sort of supplies he should bring with him.

Kyungsoo is sitting on one of the locker room benches. The first thing that Baekhyun notices is that Kyungsoo is shirtless, and that he has the abs of a god. His shorts are shorter than anything Baekhyun's seen him wear yet, ending in the middle of his thigh, just loose enough that there's not a hint of the groin protection he's probably wearing. It shouldn't look so damn attractive on him, but the thighs they show off are thick and muscled. They look delicious. They could probably crack Baekhyun's skull and he wouldn't even be that mad about it. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight.

He's got a roll of some sort of fabric next to him. He stretches it out, and Baekhyun thinks it looks like some sort of gauze/cotton blend. He holds out his hand and begins to wrap it in complex but seemingly intentional patterns. His ankles and feet have already been wrapped.

Baekhyun approaches him and stands over him, watching intently. Kyungsoo glances up at him in acknowledgement, but returns to his task soon after. His work is slow and methodical.

"It's for support," Kyungsoo says eventually, answering Baekhyun's unasked question. "I like mine a bit tighter."

Baekhyun hums and sits down next to him. "Why's that?"

"I broke my wrist once, years ago. It healed up just fine, but it feels more comfortable when my wraps are tight."

It'll make his punches harder, Baekhyun thinks. There's not going to be anywhere for the force to go but forward. It hits him, suddenly, that his job supports people beating the shit out of each other. Yes, he's helping people, but he's contributing to inevitable injuries. It's the exact opposite of what he stands for as a doctor. He bites his lip, feels his eyebrows draw down.

"Hey," Kyungsoo says, breaking Baekhyun out of his thoughts, "don't look so concerned."

Baekhyun's laugh is humorless and truncated. "Shouldn't you be a little _more_ concerned? Can't you like, I don't know, _die_ or something?"

"Don't be dramatic," Kyungsoo says with a scoff, but there's a tiny smile pulling at his lips. "People don't die. Besides, if it bothers you this much, shouldn't you have thought about this _before_ you accepted the position?"

Jongdae's calculating stare comes to mind and Baekhyun feels goosebumps slide down his back. "I don't think I had the option to reject, honestly."

"Jongdae's a hard man to say no to, but it's not like he'd send a hitman after you if you backed out." He pauses. "Probably."

Baekhyun whips his head to give Kyungsoo an incredulous look, but then he sees that smile playing on Kyungsoo's lips again, the sly glint in his eye. He whines, gently kicking Kyungsoo's bare feet. "You're an ass."

Kyungsoo opens his mouth to respond, but before he does, Minseok enters the locker room. "Hey, good, you guys are both here," he says. "Kyungsoo, it's time for inspections. Baekhyun, do you have everything you need?"

"I was actually just about to find you," Baekhyun says, standing back up. "I don't know what exactly I'm allowed to bring?"

"I can help you out."

Kyungsoo stands up too, grabbing his gloves that were sitting next to him on the bench. "Hey," he says, stopping Baekhyun with a hand on his elbow. Baekhyun blinks at the point of contact before his gaze is pulled back up to meet Kyungsoo's. "See you out there."

He's so close.

"Yeah," Baekhyun says a beat too late. Kyungsoo's mouth quirks in his almost-smile, lets him go, and leaves the locker room as Baekhyun stares after him. He's jolted by the sound of Minseok pointedly clearing his throat. There's a smile on his face, but he doesn't say anything about it.

"Come on, Mr. Cutman," Minseok says. "Let's make up your kit."

Baekhyun's "kit," by the time Minseok is done with it, is a bucket filled with bottled water, vaseline, cotton swabs, enswells, two ice packs, and a bottle labelled "Adrenaline Chloride," which Baekhyun balks at for a few seconds before realizing that it's diluted to 1:1000. For cuts, he realizes, remembering how epinephrine injections work. It will constrict blood vessels in open wounds. A helpful tool, ringside.

"Okay," Baekhyun says, his nervousness from earlier—this is really, _really_ happening, oh, fuck—coming back in full force.

"Okay?" Minseok asks, an eyebrow rising.

"Okay!" Baekhyun declares with more confidence. He pushes the door open and leads the way to the gym, and Minseok follows with a quiet chuckle.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Face to the Floor**  
Chevelle  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:38  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


The equipment in the gym has been pushed to the side, opening up space for a crowd significantly larger than what Baekhyun expects. He'd thought there'd be some representatives from both gyms participating tonight, maybe some friends and other fighters. Instead, the gym is packed full, and Baekhyun has to ask people to move out of the way so he can get to the ring in the center. Even the staircase leading up to Jongdae's office is the makeshift nosebleeds of the match.

The ring in question has four sides, a matted ground, and is fenced with red ropes. Kyungsoo is already standing by a corner, and in the other, is another man surrounded by who Baekhyun assumes is a coach and his own cutman, along with a few others. Probably others from his gym.

There are two referees talking to each other near a long table, and at the table sit three people. They're all turned towards a man whose back faces Baekhyun, and after a moment, Baekhyun realizes that it's _Jongdae._

"Who's Jongdae talking to?" Baekhyun asks Minseok as they get closer to Kyungsoo.

"Judges," Minseok says. "There are three of them, and they'll rate all three rounds. If no one's been eliminated by the end of the third, the winner is chosen based on their scores."

Baekhyun calmly nods as though he's not thinking about all the awful ways someone can be "eliminated."

When they reach Kyungsoo's corner, Minseok calls over a referee, presenting the two of them as Kyungsoo's team. The referee goes through Baekhyun's ringside bucket, nods in approval, and then climbs up into the ring.

Then, it's time. Minseok grabs Kyungsoo's shoulders. "You've beat this guy before, and you can do it again." He holds up a mouthguard to Kyungsoo's lips, and the other bites down on it. "Do _not_ let him get in a back kick, you understand? Always be aware of your distance. And don't let him get momentum!"

Kyungsoo nods once, and then he's gone, sliding under the lowest rope. He's almost instantly back on his feet, and he and his opponent both step forward to the middle of the ring. The referee talks to them, and while they nod, neither of them break eye contact with the other. At the referee's command, they touch their gloves together, something like a double fist bump, and then step away.

Kyungsoo had told Baekhyun a little bit about his opponent. Goes by Zico, which has got to be a stage name. Baekhyun doesn't remember anything else about him because that's when the whistle blows, startling all other thoughts out of his mind.

Zico launches forward— _Do_ not _let him get the momentum!_ —and Kyungsoo twirls out of the way only to give chase, and that's how the fight begins. The sounds of fists pounding on flesh is duller than Baekhyun had expected, and more penetrating, like each thud is reverberating through his own body.

They're both light on their feet, their legs whip-like as they lash out, fists flying. There are some hits that look and sound like they hurt, but the fighters don't falter; then there are others that unexpectedly bring them down to the mats. Baekhyun holds his breath each time Kyungsoo falls. But he gets back up each time, ready to attack again.

Time drags its feet, but simultaneously, when the referee calls the first rest period, it comes too soon. Minseok wastes no time dragging Kyungsoo down, already talking. He's got a water bottle in his hands. That's supposed to be Baekhyun's job. He must be moving too slow.

There's not a lot to do yet, otherwise. Heart racing, he watches on as Minseok squirts water into Kyungsoo's mouth. "Doing good out there," he's saying, then giving more advice, and all Baekhyun can think of is checking over all of Kyungsoo's body to see if there really isn't any significant damage. Those punches looked like they landed _hard._ There's a knick above Kyungsoo's eye, and Baekhyun presses an enswell to it. Kyungsoo doesn't even look at him.

The second round brings forth the smell of copper. The red comes after. They both take hits to the face, and blood bursts from a mouth, a nose, Baekhyun doesn't know, except that it's on their faces now. Kyungsoo takes a punch to the face that brings him down, but he rolls out of the way before Zico can get on him. He kicks up, knocking Zico back. They trade blows back and forth in a fast, sharp choreography, and the punishment for any missed step, any half-beat too slow, is a new bruise, a fresh cut.

The referee calls the second rest period. There are puddles of blood on the mats.

Baekhyun is faster this time. He slathers a q-tip with adrenaline chloride and coats it on the first cut he sees. He feels his heart beat hammering angrily, but his hands are deceptively steady. There's a ringing in his ears. He knows that Minseok is saying something, but all he can hone in on is the sound of Kyungsoo's deep breaths.

He's only one person, and there's only one minute before Kyungsoo has to go back out there. He reslathers his q-tip with adrenaline chloride and goes for the biggest gash; he has to prioritize. And multi-task, he can do that—the thought barely gets through his mind before he's picking up the enswell with his free hand, pressing it to the red blotch under Kyungsoo's eye. It will bruise.

During round three, the crowd is so loud that Baekhyun can't even hear most of the punches, the kicks, the slam of flesh on flesh. They're ready for a defeat, for a victor. They trade blows, but slower, sluggish. _Please end it,_ Baekhyun thinks, leaning forward.

A sudden kick. Zico flies backwards, and Kyungsoo is immediately on him with one, two, three more punches before the referee yanks him off. The crowd roars. Kyungsoo rises, baring his teeth and raising his fists in the air. He won. He _won._

Minseok catapults into the ring, and Baekhyun scrambles to keep up, almost knocking over the bucket at his feet. Kyungsoo lets Minseok pull him into a hug, both of them shouting emphatically. Baekhyun hovers in the corner, unsure of what to do, but Kyungsoo decides for him, hooking an arm around Baekhyun's neck and pulling him in.

There's blood under one of Kyungsoo's nostrils, and that eye is already swelling something awful. He smells thickly of sweat. But Baekhyun is so pleased by all of it that he just laughs into the crook of Kyungsoo's neck.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something—money?—exchanged between a pair of men, and then another transaction nearby. Are people putting down bets?

But now isn't the time. Kyungsoo won, and this moment is completely for him.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Cut The Cord**  
Shinedown  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:44  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


Kyungsoo is congratulated by many, and a few people pull him in for aggressive hugs and friendly smacks on the back and shoulders. Baekhyun is anxious to get him back into the health office to assess and properly address his injuries. He gently pulls on Kyungsoo's wrist every time they're waylaid, and Kyungsoo finally looks at him, amused. "Alright, alright. I'm coming."

Back in the health office, Kyungsoo sits still on the cot as Baekhyun's gloved fingers gently poke and prod him. He's standing up, bent at the waist as he investigates. "I know your pain tolerance is inhuman, but let me know if anything I push hurts enough that us mortals would say something."

Kyungsoo meets his eyes. Baekhyun's breath stutters at the contact combined with the closeness between them. He becomes aware of the fact that he's almost standing in between Kyungsoo's spread legs. He can feel the heat radiating from Kyungsoo's body, still hot from his exertion.

"You looked terrified back there," Kyungsoo murmurs. Baekhyun might be imagining the hunger in his eyes.

Wishful thinking.

Baekhyun blinks, startled out of his stupor. "What?"

"You looked scared, and you weren't even the one in the ring," he explains. His lips quirk up. "You're really soft, Doc. You gotta be careful. The people here are gonna eat you up."

And honestly, under Kyungsoo's hungry gaze, Baekhyun doesn't think that being "eaten up" would be that bad.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Critical Acclaim**  
Avenged Sevenfold  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 5:15  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


Minseok hands Baekhyun a bulging envelope on his way out of the gym that night, after the crowd clears out. "Good work out there." Baekhyun's eyes widen to comical levels when he thumbs through the sheets of green tucked into the envelope. This is almost the same amount he makes in the span of two weeks at the coffee shop.

To celebrate his earnings, Baekhyun swings by a diner on the way home, gets two meals to go _and_ an appetizer. When he gets home, he sets the bag of food on the coffee table, right in front of where Sehun likes to sit when he watches his anime. "Dinner is served," he declares.

Sehun's brows lift high on his forehead. _"You're_ treating _me?"_ he asks. "Who are you and what have you done with my roommate?"

"Ha ha," Baekhyun says drily. "I got paid today. It turns out my new job pays much better than my old one."

Baekhyun had told Sehun a little bit about the new job, in the sense that he was "a private physician for a gym." It's not a lie, but there's a nagging voice in the back of his mind that he maybe shouldn't say any more than that. Something isn't right here. He thinks of Jongdae's sharp, almost threatening gaze when Kyungsoo first presented him, of the money passed between spectators earlier tonight.

He tells Sehun what he can, and evades what questions he can't by distracting him with a description of all the attractive athletes that work here. Then he retreats to his bedroom to consult with Google. Google has some concerns about how the fight was conducted.

1\. There definitely is not supposed to be any gambling during the match, or by individuals.  
2\. The pre-fight check-up is supposed to include a urine test, a weigh-in, checks for injuries, and a plethora other assessments. There was no way they were able to get all that done in the twenty minutes between Kyungsoo leaving the locker room and getting to the ring.  
3\. There is supposed to be eight inspectors to make sure that all rules are being followed. Baekhyun is positive he didn't see _any._ There definitely should have been one who stayed in Kyungsoo's corner with Baekhyun and Minseok.  
4\. Fighters are not allowed to put on their wraps and gloves without inspectors present. In fact, the inspectors are supposed to be monitoring the fighters for _hours_ before the fight.  
5\. And, most importantly, _there is supposed to be a ringside team of paramedics and an ambulance for all matches._

Baekhyun stares at his screen until it goes black. Then, he groans and lays his head on his desk.

He's working at an illegal fighting ring.

Jesus fucking Christ.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Undertaker - "Renholder Mix"**  
Puscifer  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:57  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


It's probably not going to be a problem. Baekhyun thinks this mostly because he doesn't _want_ it to be a problem. As the famous adage goes, It's Fine™. And illegal or not, he's going to make sure he's damned good at his job. Over the next few days, he spends his free time looking up the most common MMA injuries, how to maximize the effectiveness of ringside first aid when he only has a minute to provide it, how to wrap hands and feet, and more. He even forces himself to watch a few UFC videos to get himself more used to the violence of the sport.

Kyungsoo had called him "too soft." Baekhyun's okay with being soft, as long as he's still able to be the best damned cutman he can be to Kyungsoo and the rest of the fighters.

He's watching one such video on his phone, one about most common muscle pains fighters get, sitting on one of the unused work benches. The woman narrating the video begins to talk about different muscles on the back when he hears the first shout, angry and loud.

Baekhyun jerks his head up and almost drops his phone. On the other side of the gym is Luhan, holding Kyungsoo up against the wall. He looks absolutely murderous. Kyungsoo just looks bored. "Say that again, you fucking bitch," he hisses loud enough that Baekhyun can hear it from here.

Baekhyun stands up and scrambles forward. He stops next to Minseok, who stands a few meters away from the whole affair, watching passively. Baekhyun looks back and forth between the coach and the two fighters, back and forth again. Minseok is at least five times stronger than Baekhyun, and if he's not interfering, then Baekhyun probably shouldn't, either. He asks, "Shouldn't we stop them?"

Shaking his head, Minseok crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Nah, let them get it out of their systems, or else neither of them will be productive at all for the rest of the day." Kyungsoo bodily pushes Luhan off of him. Luhan comes right back with a violent shove. Unbothered, Minseok continues, "They know better than to actually hurt each other. Jongdae would give them hell for it."

As Kyungsoo gets Luhan into a chokehold, he thinks that he and Minseok have very different definitions of "actually hurt." Minseok doesn't look concerned, and Baekhyun knows he'd be an idiot to step in himself, so he doesn't. Instead, he tries to distract himself by doing what he does best: talking. "What are they even fighting about?"

"Who knows?" Minseok shrugs. "One of them says something, the other says something back, and soon enough, they're at each others' throats."

And there's not much to say to that in reply. Baekhyun hums and tries to swallow down the anxiety roiling in his gut when Luhan elbows Kyungsoo in the stomach.

Minseok's right, though; after trading a few more blows—none of which are genuine punches or kicks, Baekhyun's relieved to note—they separate, exchanging glares before making a show of turning their back to the other. "Great!" Minseok says, clapping his hands once. "Luhan, take a break and go ask Junmyeon about your new routine. Kyungsoo, get yourself wrapped up meet me back out here."

Luhan immediately slinks away, reminding Baekhyun of some sort of wild cat acting dignified even as it retreats to lick its wounds. Kyungsoo doesn't move for a long moment, as though to tell Minseok, _You're not in charge of me._ Minseok waits it out. Finally, Kyungsoo strides to the hallway to the locker room. For a lack of knowing what else to do, Baekhyun follows.

In the locker room, Kyungsoo grabs a roll of gauze wrap from his locker, plops down on a bench, and says, "You really need to stop looking so scared all the time, Doc."

Baekhyun huffs out a sound that might be an aborted laugh. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'm 'soft.'" Before he can lose confidence, he holds out his hand. "May I?"

Kyungsoo pauses and studies Baekhyun the way he might study an opponent he's never seen before, calculating and intense. Baekhyun feels the hair at the back of his neck stand up, his skin going tight, but he doesn't back down. Baekhyun suddenly, desperately, wants to know what Kyungsoo's thinking, wants to know what he sees when he takes Baekhyun apart so thoroughly under his gaze.

Whatever it is, it must satisfy him, because he places the roll of gauze in Baekhyun's hands. Their fingers brush, and Baekhyun tries not to shudder.

Baekhyun kneels, ignoring the way the hard floor hurts his knees. He picks up Kyungsoo's right hand first, more gentle than Kyungsoo would be, probably, as he hooks the looped tail of the wrap over Kyungsoo's thumb. He guides the roll around Kyungsoo's wrist a few times, then around his palm. Next, between the fingers . . . .

He practiced this to perfection over the past two nights. Sehun offered his knobby hands for Baekhyun to practice on, a Youtube tutorial quietly playing on his phone as Sehun watched a Marvel movie. He refused to bring anything less than his best to work, to Kyungsoo. But now that he's here, close enough to feel Kyungsoo's breath on the crown of his head, he feels his confidence shaking.

He velcros the first wrap into place, and Kyungsoo offers his other hand, though, so he must not be doing too bad.

Tighter, Baekhyun thinks. Sehun had complained that the wraps were too snug, but Kyungsoo had said _I like mine a bit tighter._ Because of his wrist, the one that healed fine but feels better with more support.

He finishes the second wrap. After a moment of hesitation, he withdraws his hands and intentionally drags the tips of his fingers over Kyungsoo's, even as his ears go hot.

Kyungsoo's eyes, when he finally meets them, are dark. Baekhyun's pulse roars.

Kyungsoo closes his hands in a fist once, twice. "You practiced this," he says.

Like that, the spell is broken, and the brunt of Baekhyun's lust ebbs, leaving the ghost of want in its wake. "I mean . . . yeah. Does it feel okay? Is it too tight? Too loose? or—"

"No," Kyungsoo says firmly. "It's good. It feels good." He wiggles his fingers again to emphasize his point.

Baekhyun smiles down at the floor.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Over Now**  
Post Malone  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 4:06  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


Baekhyun has provided ringside support during enough matches now that he's finally getting comfortable with everything. Attacks no longer make him flinch every time, unless someone gets knocked out in a particularly brutal way.

He only wraps for Kyungsoo, though. He doesn't offer to Chanyeol, or Jongin, or the others. It's . . . intimate, somehow.

His familiarity begets new insights. He knows that Yixing is the fastest out of all of them, that Zitao is best with extreme moves involving a high level of balance and flexibility and apparently grew up doing wushu. Chanyeol has the most power in his arms, and Jongin has the highest stamina and the best legwork, probably due to his extensive background in ballet.

But all around, Kyungsoo is the best. Baekhyun might be a little biased, but it's true; he's got the most wins out of anyone, and whenever he spars with anyone else, he wins at least 80% of the time. He's somewhat of a champion of the gym, and is considered a top dog among all fighters in the underground side of things.

 _(Illegal._ It's illegal, not just "underground," but Baekhyun doesn't like using that word.)

There's also some less important things Baekhyun's noticed, like, "You know, I'm kinda sad they don't yell, 'Let's get ready to rummmmbleeeee!' to hype up a match before it starts." He's spotting for Kyungsoo's weight lifting right now, while Minseok goes to find a pair of Thai pads he left in his car.

Kyungsoo sets the weights down after his set and sits up. His skin beads with sweat, and between that and his tight muscle tank, it's a feat that Baekhyun isn't drooling. He does, however, almost miss Kyungsoo's reply of, "They can't. It's trademarked."

Baekhyun blinks at him, making a show of his eyebrows raising. He doesn't even have to fake the incredulity in his voice as he says, _"That's_ where this place draws the line for legality? _Trademarked catchphrases?"_

Kyungsoo laughs. It's a genuine laugh, one that shows off his heart-shaped smile and makes his belly clench. It's the first time Baekhyun's heard Kyungsoo laugh, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't fall a little bit in love.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Topless**  
Breaking Benjamin  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:01  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


Baekhyun is sitting on the floor in the health office putting in an order for more adrenaline chloride when he hears the door to the locker room slam shut. He knows Kyungsoo is in the locker room, but just got out of the shower, because the stream of water just stopped a minute or two ago, so it would be weird if he'd left that soon, unless he's walking out in just a towel and still soaking wet. Baekhyun appreciates the image, but it's unlikely. He's also pretty sure he and Kyungsoo were the last people in the gym tonight, so he can't begin to imagine who—

"I honestly don't remember the last time I was in here."

It's muffled, as are all noises when Baekhyun has his door shut. But that voice is unmistakable. Imagining Jongdae standing there in the locker room, surrounded by rusted metal and barren floor, illuminated by harsh white lights, is almost impossible.

"A rare pleasure," Kyungsoo says, voice guarded like the last time Baekhyun heard him talk to Jongdae.

And . . . this is probably eavesdropping. Kyungsoo probably knows he's in here, but Jongdae doesn't. But it'd also probably be more awkward to intrude, so Baekhyun keeps quiet, going back to his work.

He tries to, at least. It's really hard when Jongdae says, "Money talks, Kyungsoo. And money's been saying that it's your turn to fall tomorrow night."

What?

Kyungsoo echoes his thoughts. "What?" he asks.

"What do you mean, 'what?'" Jongdae asks sharply. "You've had a winning streak through fair matches. It's time for you to go down. We'll all get paid more than usual, and you'll get a bonus if you don't fall until the third round."

There's a lot going through Baekhyun's mind right now. "Your turn" and "fair matches" and "bonus." He remembers Kyungsoo telling him about pay, about how lucrative this business is "if the right person goes down," and he didn't know what that meant then but he's thinking he might have an idea now.

"That's not even slightly realistic," Kyungsoo says, his voice rising. "It's Jiyong, right? I've beaten him the past three matches. People are going to be betting on _me_ anyways!"

"The personal bets don't matter," Jongdae snaps, his pleasant facade falling away. "His gym does. Chanyeol just beat Seunghyun, and Luhan took down Daesung two weeks ago. They're willing to put down the money to get their clout back. Having one of their fighters take down a champion is the fastest way to do that."

There's a long pause. Baekhyun imagines Kyungsoo clenching his jaw, or glaring murderously at a locker. Jongdae says slowly, intentionally, "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," Kyungsoo says.

"Great." Jongdae's voice goes pleasant again. It sends shivers down Baekhyun's spine, like a trickle of icy cold water. "I'm looking forward to your match tomorrow, then."

Nothing else is said; the click of Jongdae's heels says enough. The door shuts behind him with a dull thud. Baekhyun doesn't breathe.

A loud crash, and somehow Baekhyun knows, with all certainty, that Kyungsoo just punched a locker.

Baekhyun scrambles to his feet and bursts out the door. He sees Kyungsoo's hand fall at his side, and there's red on it, because of course there is, of _course_ you're going to cut your hand if you punch a grated locker.

"Shit, Kyungsoo," Baekhyun says, stepping forward but not reaching out to touch. Not yet. Not when Kyungsoo looks like he's going to burst out of his own skin.

"Baekhyun, can you just—" Kyungsoo cuts himself off. His jaw clenches again, and he sits on a bench, his feet wide apart and hanging his head down almost between his knees. He tangles his fists in his hair, and Baekhyun warily eyes the scrapes on his knuckles. They don't look like anything that needs more than a wash and maybe some anti-fungal because this place is probably a breeding ground for ringworm. He doesn't think Kyungsoo would appreciate either of those things right now, so he waits. Waits for the right words to come to him, or for Jongdae to come back in and say "Just kidding!"

What happens instead is Kyungsoo saying, "I hate this."

When in doubt, Baekhyun talks. Generally, when feeling any sort of emotions at all, Baekhyun talks. But for once, Baekhyun knows talking isn't going to help here. He doesn't know how fixed fights work, or how Kyungsoo feels during, or after. He doesn't know how it feels to go into something knowing you're physically able to win, but being forced to lose anyways. He doesn't know what it feels like to be handed the money for his defeat later. He doesn't know the right words to say, so he doesn't say anything.

"Can I touch you?" Baekhyun asks quietly. Kyungsoo doesn't respond, but because it's Kyungsoo, Baekhyun takes it as consent. He moves behind Kyungsoo and places his hands on Kyungsoo's back. He's still shirtless from his shower, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants. He waits for any protest, but Kyungsoo is still underneath his touch, so he presses his thumbs down hard and drags them up.

He's been watching videos about massages, too, emboldened by Kyungsoo's reaction to wrapping. It's his first time actually trying it out on someone, though, no helpful roommates to practice on this time. But from the way Kyungsoo slowly relaxes, tension draining from his body, Baekhyun thinks he must be doing something right, even if it would be better if Kyungsoo was lying down. He grinds his fingers into the ropes of muscle, wheedling out the strain with firm strokes. Along the muscles framing his spine, he uses his knuckles. His shoulders get a hard sweep of his thumbs.

The first moan makes him freeze. It's a quiet sound, pitched low, and it trails off into a sigh. It's probably the most delicious sound Baekhyun's ever heard in his life. He forces his hands to move again, finds a knot at the base of Kyungsoo's neck and digs into it with his knuckles. Kyungsoo makes a quiet noise again. Baekhyun really can't be blamed with how it goes straight to his dick because all he can think about is how Kyungsoo might sound like that if Baekhyun were to suck him off.

Oh, God, okay. He can't think like that right now, or else he's going to do something embarrassing.

He's thorough, hunting down all of the knotted muscle and steadily rubbing them out. Save for the occasional quiet sound, Kyungsoo is mostly quiet, and it's probably for the best, even if he wants to coax all of those groans out of him.

Baekhyun finishes his massage by lessening his force, slowly running his palms up Kyungsoo's back. Feeling brazen, his final touch is the drag of his hand up Kyungsoo's neck, ending with his nails lightly scratching the spot where Kyungsoo's dark hairs begin. He's giddy with the sight of an outright shiver making Kyungsoo's back straighten, goosebumps creeping down his spine.

Kyungsoo's voice, when he finally talks next, is shaky. "What the fuck, Baekhyun? Have you been holding out on me this whole time?"

It's the first time he's called Baekhyun by his name, not "Doc." Baekhyun's heart sputters pathetically. "No," he says, putting effort into keeping his breathing even. "I've been looking into massages for athletes. This is the first time I've actually, you know, tried it on someone."

Kyungsoo hums. He rolls his head, stretching out his neck, then rotates his shoulders. He sighs appreciatively. "You've got magical hands, that's for sure."

And Baekhyun _so very badly_ wants to make an innuendo out of that, but the crease between Kyungsoo's eyebrows still hasn't loosened yet, so he diverts the conversation to Sehun's latest catastrophe of a date. Kyungsoo snorts at the right places, even if he looks caught up in his own thoughts, so Baekhyun counts it as a win, no matter how small.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Happy Song**  
Bring Me The Horizon  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:59  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


Kyungsoo is on edge all day, silently skulking around the gym. Baekhyun's a little surprised how the Thai pads stay intact, with the brutal way Kyungsoo's pummeling them. Minseok's mouth and eyebrows are down in concern, but watches on without intervening. He has to know it too, what Kyungsoo has to do tonight. Must know there's nothing to be done.

For the first time in weeks, when it comes time to prepare for the fight, Kyungsoo doesn't even let Baekhyun wrap his hands.

There's a bigger crowd for Kyungsoo's matches than there are for other matches. Sure, all of the fights pull in a sizable crowd, but Kyungsoo draws out people—and their money—like moths to a flame. The noise of them rattles in Baekhyun's head, making it difficult to focus.

Minseok is uncharacteristically silent at the corner of the ring as he puts a mouthguard in Kyungsoo's mouth. He doesn't offer advice or encouragement. He just grips Kyungsoo's shoulder for a few seconds, then drops his hand. Kyungsoo doesn't meet Baekhyun's eyes.

Slim and tattooed, Kyungsoo's opponent, Jiyong, looks confident in his corner of the ring. That confidence falters only when they meet in the middle, and Kyungsoo doesn't stop, instead pressing his forehead to Jiyong's, maintaining an intense glare. It reminds Baekhyun of two stags locking antlers in battle. Jiyong holds his ground, but blinks rapidly, as if worried that Kyungsoo isn't going to stick to the plan. Isn't going to let him win.

Kyungsoo is prideful. But he's not stupid, and especially not when it comes to disobeying a man like Jongdae.

The referee signals the beginning of the first round, and Kyungsoo launches himself at Jiyong. Kyungsoo doesn't usually make the first move, and never this recklessly. The attack drives a startled Jiyong back a few steps. He regains his balance and swings his fist at Kyungsoo's head only to be easily blocked.

Kyungsoo is merciless. By the middle of the second round, even Baekhyun isn't sure if Kyungsoo is going to let Jiyong win. Minseok echoes his thoughts. "Don't be an idiot, Kyungsoo," Minseok hisses, restlessly shifting his weight from leg to leg.

In the third round, it's obvious that Jiyong is beginning to tire, movements growing sluggish, and there are a few seconds where Baekhyun is certain beyond doubt that Kyungsoo really is going to knock him out. Then, Jiyong snaps his leg out to kick Kyungsoo, and Baekhyun sees it, the way Kyungsoo very clearly moves his arms to the side to guard the attack, leaving his center wide open. Baekhyun and Jiyong realize it at the same time, and while Baekhyun feels something hard and cold drop in his stomach, Jiyong snarls in triumph, jabbing his right hand forward. Kyungsoo turns his head at the last second. The fist connects with Kyungsoo's cheek.

Kyungsoo goes down. The sound of his body hitting the ground is one of the worst Baekhyun has ever heard.

The referee calls the knockout and pulls Jiyong away from Kyungsoo. The crowd _roars._ Behind the judges, light glints off Jongdae's sharp smile. Minseok and Baekhyun slip under the ropes and rush to Kyungsoo.

His eyes are already open again, but his face is blank. He pushes Baekhyun away when the latter tries to help him up, and limps to the edge of the ring, where he carefully lowers himself onto the ground.

Minseok sighs. "Go check him out," he says. "I'm going to go talk to Jongdae."

Baekhyun swallows, nods. He catches up to Kyungsoo, who refuses to look at anyone in the crowd, even as they jeer insults at him. Most of them probably bet on him. This match will probably burn holes in a lot of pockets.

Unexpectedly, anger, quivering and white-hot, coils in Baekhyun's chest, indignant on Kyungsoo's behalf. His upper lip curls up in a snarl, but he doesn't rise to any of the taunts, either.

The locker room door slams behind them.

When Baekhyun silently moves his fingers over his face, his body, Kyungsoo doesn't look at him. He keeps his eyes trained straight ahead, like Baekhyun isn't even there. He doesn't wince at the application of isopropyl alcohol over his fresh cuts, not even the huge abrasion on his cheek. Still, Baekhyun is even gentler than usual.

He smooths on the last piece of medical tape over the gauze pad on Kyungsoo's cheek. He finally leans back, sitting on the other cot, knees almost knocking into Kyungsoo's. He opens his mouth to say something—what, though? What the hell can he say to make this better?

He closes his mouth again.

It's that moment that Minseok appears in the doorway, two envelopes in his hand, and Baekhyun's heart seems to stop.

Minseok bites his lip. In the end, he doesn't say anything, choosing instead to place the envelopes on Baekhyun's desk. He hovers for a few long seconds, but when it's clear none of them have anything to say, he retreats again, leaving them in silence.

Kyungsoo gets up. He snatches an envelope, one that reads "KD" on it in thick black marker. He leaves Baekhyun behind in his office. A minute later, the sound of running water from a shower echoes through the locker room.

Baekhyun loiters, finding small, menial tasks to do until Kyungsoo's ready to leave. They leave together, and Kyungsoo even holds open the alley door for Baekhyun. They still don't talk, but when they reach the intersection at the sidewalk, where Baekhyun goes left and Kyungsoo goes right, Kyungsoo reaches out and grips Baekhyun's hand. He squeezes once before letting go, turning around, and walking away.

And Baekhyun knows the touch is a _I'm not mad at you._ The touch is a _Thank you._

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Spellbound**  
Lacuna Coil  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:21  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


It's almost comical how it starts, really. What it comes down to is this: Luhan and Kyungsoo shouldn't be allowed to be within fifty fucking feet of each other.

Minseok is out today, something about going to his daughter's recital, which is _weird as fuck_ to Baekhyun, who hadn't even considered Minseok having a life outside of the gym. It's just Junmyeon coaching today, and Junmyeon can't devote all of his time to making Luhan and Kyungsoo, two grown ass men, play nice.

Baekhyun is kneeling at Chanyeol's feet, inspecting one of his ankles, the one he's had problems with in the past. "I think it'll be okay," he's saying, "as long as you—"

"Uh oh," Chanyeol says, right before Baekhyun hears, _"Watch where you're fucking going."_

Baekhyun whips his head around. Luhan has his back turned to Baekhyun, facing Kyungsoo, which means Baekhyun has an unobscured view of Kyungsoo's haughty expression. On anyone else, the large abrasion on his cheek—which should _really_ still be covered, damn it, Kyungsoo—would negate the sneer. On Kyungsoo, it just emphasizes the fact that he's got a bite to back up his bark.

"Or else what?" Luhan asks. "When are you going to put your money where your goddamn mouth is?"

It's different from when Kyungsoo and Luhan start going at each other; Luhan has a temper, but Kyungsoo likes to needle, never directly provoke. This, though, this is different. Kyungsoo's pride is still smarting from last night's match. Whether he's looking to redeem his pride through a fight, or if he's just in a pissy mood, Baekhyun can't begin to guess. But the way he grabs Luhan's collar is clear enough, regardless of what he's thinking right now.

"When you stop bending over for Jongdae," Kyungsoo answers. "Seriously, can you let that guy fuck you over any more than you already do?"

The gym goes silent, all the athletes halting their exercise, their weights lowered, machines turned off. Baekhyun frantically looks around the gym, but Junmyeon is nowhere to be found.

Ah, shit.

"Say that again," Luhan quietly says. "I dare you." Baekhyun stands up, the hair on the back of his neck prickling. The tension in the room is thick and heavy. He inches closer, knowing that this isn't going to be a confrontation that they need to "get out of their systems," as Minseok had put it. Baekhyun's not sure what he can do to stop two professional MMA fighters from getting into it, but he also can't just sit back and watch.

"I said," says Kyungsoo, making a show of calmly and clearly enunciating his words, "everyone knows how you suck Jongdae's dick, and how he goes home and forgets about you right after every single time. I'm not going to fight someone who obviously can't stand up for themselves."

Baekhyun has watched enough fights now to know when an attack is coming. He sees the tension in Luhan's right arm, and knows that the imminent punch is one that he isn't going to hold back. _"Stop it!"_ Baekhyun shouts, lunging forward to try to grab Luhan's arm.

Luhan's arm keeps coiling back though, and his elbow crashes straight into Baekhyun's face.

One of the rules Baekhyun remembers looking up regarding MMA matches is that elbowing isn't allowed. He's always wondered why that is, when you're allowed to beat up your opponent in a plethora of other ways. But as the hard, pointed bone smashes into his face, he thinks, _Ah, so that's why._

Kyungsoo roars. Baekhyun passes out.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Little Monster**  
Royal Blood  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:32  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


"Baekhyun, are you awake?"

Is he? Oh, he's thinking, so he must be, and he's processing the stimuli of a soft voice, the dim light of what is undoubtedly the health office, and _How his face hurts like a bitch._

"Unfortunately," he groans. "Oh my _God,_ I can't believe you do this for a living."

Kyungsoo's laugh is breathy, maybe even a little watery. "Elbows to the face? Nah, I'll pass."

After a couple of blinks, the room comes into focus. The ceiling lights are switched off, leaving on only the lamp on Baekhyun's desk. Kyungsoo has a chair pulled up to the side of the cot Baekhyun lies on. He's watching Baekhyun with the softest expression he's ever seen on the fighter.

Baekhyun hesitates, but he needs to know. "Luhan . . . ?"

"Won't make the mistake of hurting you again," Kyungsoo says without missing a beat. He refuses to elaborate, so Baekhyun makes a mental note to ask Chanyeol or one of the others about it later.

"Are you okay?" Baekhyun asks. He can't see any new marks on Kyungsoo's face or body, just the ones remaining from his fixed match.

Kyungsoo scoffs, more in disbelief than anything else. _"I'm_ fine. _You're_ the one with the black eye." Baekhyun blinks, raising a hand to his face to gently press at his right eye and—

Oh, fuck. Oh, Jesus. Baekhyun hisses in pain, and Kyungsoo has the audacity to laugh, that fucker. "This isn't funny," Baekhyun grits out.

"Don't touch it. I don't know what you expected to happen. Of course it hurts."

Baekhyun's hand falls. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. Then: "Does it look cool, at least?"

Kyungsoo laughs again, this one a bit louder, a bit less expected. "No," Kyungsoo says. He reaches out and traces the tips of his fingers under Baekhyun's bruise, and Baekhyun hears his breath hitch but can't focus on it around the sudden tightness in his chest. "You're too soft, remember? Bruises don't suit you."

Baekhyun exhales, feeling shaken through to his core. "Well," he says, just barely turning his face into Kyungsoo's exploring fingers, "I guess it's a good thing that you're here to look after me, then, huh?"

Kyungsoo's fingers give way to his palm, and Kyungsoo's cupping his face, now, leaning forward, leaning down. "Guess so," he says.

Baekhyun lays his hand on Kyungsoo's neck, and Kyungsoo hears his question, his permission, and closes the gap between them.

Kyungsoo's lips are warm and a little chapped, but the discomfort of dryness is erased with a flick of Baekhyun's tongue, and their kiss goes slick, smooth. Kyungsoo sighs, opens up to Baekhyun. Baekhyun's always liked the flavor of sports drinks, but he thinks he likes it even better licking the taste out of Kyungsoo's mouth.

Kyungsoo's free hand plants itself on the opposite side of Baekhyun's body to give him more support, and like this, the top half of his body is stretched out over Baekhyun's. Being under Kyungsoo's body is great. In fact, Baekhyun thinks he wants to be under Kyungsoo's body a lot more. Breaths going ragged, Baekhyun twists his fingers in Kyungsoo's hair, pulling him closer, so Kyungsoo has to go down to his elbow, letting their chests come together. Kyungsoo makes a sound from low in his chest. The slide of his tongue across Baekhyun's makes it nearly impossible to think.

The locker room door opens.

Kyungsoo pulls away to properly sit in his chair. Baekhyun stares up at the ceiling, forcing his breath to go steady. He's still a bit punch-drunk on Kyungsoo's mouth, and it's hard to push through the fog to process the sight of Junmyeon stepping into the health office.

Junmyeon frowns at Kyungsoo. "I let Minseok know what happened. Go continue your workout. Luhan went home for the day so there's no reason for you to stay back here." Kyungsoo opens his mouth to retort, but Junmyeon's eyes go sharp in a way that Baekhyun is unused to. "I don't want to hear it. You're lucky I didn't bring this to Jongdae. Minseok will deal with you later."

Kyungsoo breathes out through his nose, obviously wanting to argue but deciding against it. He stands, gives Baekhyun one more look, and leaves.

Junmyeon's severe expression drops. "How are you feeling?" he asks, taking up Kyungsoo's vacated chair.

"Probably exactly how I look," Baekhyun says, smiling.

"That was brave of you to try to intervene. Stupid, but brave."

Baekhyun almost doesn't want to know, but he asks the question that's been sitting at the back of his mind anyway. "What happened to Luhan?"

"Kyungsoo . . . lost it, a little," Junmyeon admits. "It took both Chanyeol and Jongin to get him off Luhan. Luhan took a bit of a beating, but nothing that needed to be stitched up or anything like that. Yixing took him home." Junmyeon clicks his tongue. "You'll also be going home."

Baekhyun frowns. He doesn't particularly want to leave, but he also knows that he's still a bit dizzy, a little nauseous. He doesn't want to admit it to himself, but he might have a concussion.

"I'll call my roommate and have him walk me home," Baekhyun promises.

"Good." Junmyeon squeezes Baekhyun's arm. "We need our doctor in top condition, Byun! Get some R and R, and come back soon."

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Twisted Transistor**  
Korn  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:08  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


Except it's near impossible to get "R and R" when Baekhyun can't think about anything besides Kyungsoo.

Sehun demands to know what happened to Baekhyun's face and it's a struggle to explain himself when he loses his train of thought every time he remembers how gentle Kyungsoo's fingers had been. Throughout the rest of the night, he absently brushes his own fingers across his lips. Sehun keeps shooting him strange looks, and once throwing a dirty sock at him, saying, "Stop bouncing your knee so much! You're making me anxious. What's wrong with you?"

Baekhyun just shrugs, switching from bouncing his leg to tapping his fingers against his knee. He's not anxious, just—excited. Horny.

When Baekhyun takes a shower after dinner, it's to thoughts of Kyungsoo that he touches himself, jerking his cock to full hardness and imagining it's not his hands doing it at all.

None of that is bad. Kyungsoo's gorgeous, and it would honestly be weirder if Baekhyun doesn't get turned on by him.

No, the concerning thing is how when Baekhyun goes to bed for the night, after coming a second time by rutting against his pillow and imagining it as Kyungsoo's meaty thigh, he can't sleep because he keeps thinking how nice it would be if Kyungsoo were lying beside him, arm hooked around Baekhyun's waist, whispering pet names and promises against Baekhyun's neck.

It's all very gay. Baekhyun is very gay. For Kyungsoo.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Bleed It Out**  
Linkin Park  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 2:46  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


At odds with his restlessness, the gym is business as usual when he gets there the next morning, all banging of metal equipment and tinny, hollow music from outdated speakers. He forces himself to go straight to the health office as usual, waiting for the athletes to trickle in, before he finally takes his med bag out to the main room.

He tries to keep himself from immediately seeking out Kyungsoo, but his eyes betray him, honing in on the sight of the fighter training with a heavy punching bag, and it's like he's seeing the man for the first time, or maybe _allowed_ to truly see him for the first time. He doesn't bother trying to hide the way he roves over the width of Kyungsoo's shoulders, or the ropes of muscles across his back and arms.

Eventually, Kyungsoo spots him. His mouth tilts up in a secretive smile genuine enough to hint at that heart shape of his. Baekhyun takes a step forward, but that's when Minseok approaches Kyungsoo, blocking Baekhyun's line of sight.

"No," Minseok says firmly. "After yesterday's shit show, you need to focus on your training, not socializing."

Kyungsoo snarks something back too quietly for Baekhyun to make sense of, but obeys, swinging his fist hard into the punching bag with a load thump.

Baekhyun doesn't have much time to pout over the lost opportunity to talk to Kyungsoo, because he sees Zitao rushing through his stretches, sloppy and reckless, and chastising him takes priority.

For the rest of the day, he's in and out of the health office. Out more than he should be, really, because he keeps finding pathetically weak excuses to see Kyungsoo, even if Minseok seems to be hell-bent on keeping him too occupied to chat today. Junmyeon does this same with Luhan, never letting him have enough time to pick a fight, so Baekhyun tries not to take it personally, tries not to view Minseok's insistence on productivity as a form of cockblocking.

"Cockblocking." That might be presumptuous on Baekhyun's part, because a single kiss, no matter how hot, doesn't guarantee any sort of subsequent sexual encounter. But Baekhyun can't keep himself from imagining sneaking into the showers with him, or riding him on one of the weight training benches.

It's such a gross gym. Baekhyun hasn't seen any trace of custodial staff. Baekhyun should not want to have sex here as much as he does, but Kyungsoo makes him stupid.

In between stealing glimpses of Kyungsoo, Baekhyun manages to get a little work done, namely writing passive-aggressive notes on work-out routines from a health standpoint for Minseok and Junmyeon to review later, pointing out where they should modify or take out things that put too much stress on Jongin's back, Chanyeol's ankle, and the like. He also washes and sterilizes the tools he used yesterday but never got around to cleaning due to being sent home early.

There's a minor emergency involving Luhan and a charley horse that Baekhyun helps massage out, but otherwise, the day is uneventful. It gives him all the time in the world to fixate on the arousal humming under his skin. He feels like he's hanging on a precipice of something, he and Kyungsoo, and he's ready for someone to snap.

It's wishful thinking, then, that he finds an excuse to loiter around after his shift is over. He keeps his door propped open and glances through the crack, making a tally of which athletes come back to get ready to go home.

Kyungsoo isn't one of them. Kyungsoo is still in the gym.

The din of the locker room eventually fades away, quieting with each goodbye called to Baekhyun, until the only noise left is the ringing in his ears.

Baekhyun sets down the basket of adhesives he had been rearranging for the sake of having something to do with his hands. He stands up, unsure of what he plans to do but knowing he can't sit still anymore.

The sound of the door opening decides for him. He freezes, staring wide-eyed at the door, hoping, and maybe just a little bit nervous.

Kyungsoo appears in the crack in the doorway and slips into the office without an ounce of hesitation. He locks eyes with Baekhyun and doesn't look away while the door clicks shut behind him. The ensuing silence is heavy and strained. Baekhyun feels giddy enough that he could vibrate out of his own skin.

With one quick stride, Kyungsoo closes the gap between them. His hand falls firmly on the back of Baekhyun's neck to reel him in.

The kiss is just as hot, as urgent, as it was last night, the wet slide of licked lips and the hot sweep of tongues. Baekhyun shudders, presses closer, needy and determined. When Kyungsoo nips at his upper lip, Baekhyun lets out a quiet whine and claws down Kyungsoo's shoulders, exposed by his black tank top, and the hand on the back of his neck grips tighter before pulling him back.

"Been thinking about this all fucking day," he says, and Baekhyun's breathing stutters at how gravelly his voice is, dripping with want. "You're so fucking distracting."

"Am I?" Baekhyun says, and even though his words are challenging, his voice is thin. "How so?"

His hands drop to Baekhyun's hips, fingers slipping just under Baekhyun's shirt. His nose traces the line of Baekhyun's jaw, and his words fall hot on Baekhyun's neck. "Every time I saw you, I wanted to pin you down against a mat," he says, and the confession goes straight to Baekhyun's dick. "And you looked like you would let me."

"I wanted you to," Baekhyun says, trying to focus enough to speak while Kyungsoo's mouth presses to his neck. He's so glad that Kyungsoo doesn't want to take this slow. Baekhyun would have respected that, but it would have been a Herculean task to go home without putting to rest the tension between them. "Fuck, Kyungsoo, I thought about this all day, last night—"

The hands on his hips are like vices, now, digging into the skin there. "Last night, huh?" Kyungsoo's teeth scrape against the thin skin of his throat, a threat, a _promise._ "Tell me, did you touch yourself while thinking about me?"

 _"Yes,"_ Baekhyun moans. "And in bed, against—against the pillow."

Kyungsoo outright growls, and it's one of the sexiest things Baekhyun's ever heard. He shoves Baekhyun back until he's pressed up against the wall and fits their bodies together. Hips flush against hips, Baekhyun can't ignore how hard he's getting. But Kyungsoo's getting there, too. Baekhyun can feel the hard length against his thigh, and his mouth waters.

Their mouths slot together again, sloppy and hot and perfect. Baekhyun has never loved the taste of blue Gatorade this much. He grips Kyungsoo's shoulder with one hand, threads the other through Kyungsoo's hair. "Please," Baekhyun whimpers, even if he's not sure what it is he's asking for, just something, anything. "Kyungsoo, _please."_ He realizes his hips are making aborted movements forward, small motions that grant him the tiniest bit of friction on his cock. How long has he been doing that?

"I've got you," Kyungsoo whispers, and then his hands drop down farther, around the back of Baekhyun's thighs, and a second later, Baekhyun finds himself hoisted in the air. With a squeak he won't admit to later, he tightens his hold on Kyungsoo, and, fuck, he's never been moved around like this before, as though he weighs no more than a child. The new angle has Baekhyun's legs spread wide, knees hooked on Kyungsoo's waist. Kyungsoo holds him in place there, pinning him, and Baekhyun doesn't think he could go anywhere even if he wanted to.

Kyungsoo finds his lips again, nips playfully at them, as he brings his hips forward in a slow, delicious grind. "Good?" he asks, and Baekhyun moans his assent before licking into Kyungsoo's mouth again.

Caught between the wall and Kyungsoo's body, Baekhyun is forced to feel every thrust Kyungsoo's hips make, and he relishes in it. Kyungsoo's hard enough now that Baekhyun can feel every inch of his thick cock through Baekhyun's thin sweats and Kyungsoo's flimsy athletic shorts, and while Baekhyun desperately wants that cock in his hands, his mouth, _himself,_ he knows that after having his arousal kept on a hair trigger all day, he's not going to last much longer. Not with this constant pressure on his cock, rubbing up and down against Kyungsoo. Not after being thrown around and held up like a rag doll.

Kyungsoo's hands slide up by inches, until they're cupping the globes of Baekhyun's ass, fingers spread wide to cover each cheek, and he _squeezes._ Baekhyun gasps into Kyungsoo's mouth, and then he's coming with a high-pitched sound, hips kicking forward erratically. Kyungsoo's face drops again into the crook of Baekhyun's neck, teething at it with heavy pants before he groans, hips pushing forward hard before gentling, then stilling. Through his post-orgasmic stupor, it takes Baekhyun a few seconds to realize that, holy shit, Kyungsoo just came. Kyungsoo just came because of _him._

Fuck. That's so awesome.

What's less awesome is the mess in his underwear, but all in all, it's a small price to pay.

Kyungsoo's so careful when he puts Baekhyun down, hands gentle and soft. "Are you okay?" he asks against Baekhyun's cheek.

"I don't remember the last time I came in my pants," Baekhyun declares brazenly, and Kyungsoo snorts. Any fear that they would suffer post-sex awkwardness dissipates, so Baekhyun pushes ahead before he loses the momentum. "I don't want this to be a one-time thing."

Kyungsoo's face is unreadable. "As in, you want us to have sex more, or . . . ?" He lets his question trail off, leaving Baekhyun to do the work of elaborating.

"That too," Baekhyun says, and hesitates for a moment before saying, "But only with me," hoping that conveys his needs without outright saying something like _Please date me._

Kyungsoo considers this for a moment, then says, "Okay."

Baekhyun blinks. "'Okay?' That's it?"

"What? Were you expecting roses or something?" Kyungsoo scoffs, but Baekhyun can see the smile he's fighting to keep down.

When they kiss again, it's around Baekhyun's wide grin and the accompanying laugh.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Undead**  
Hollywood Undead  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 4:25  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


Kyungsoo's at the top of his game tonight. His opponent is a man that goes by Taeyang, although Baekhyun's pretty sure that's also a stage name. Taeyang has an impressive stature, all lean muscle and hard lines, and from what Baekhyun hears in the crowd, has a fierce reputation. That combined with Kyungsoo's previous loss makes for a particularly energetic crowd, all held in suspense, tensions high. Minseok disappears from the corner for a little bit before the match, and comes back a minute or two later, looking amused. "The bets are about fifty-fifty," he says. "If Kyungsoo wins, we'll get a bonus tonight."

"When Kyungsoo wins," Baekhyun says without thinking, and his own surprise at the confidence in his words matches Minseok's, whose brows lift up.

Then Minseok breaks out into a broad smile. "When he wins," he agrees.

Kyungsoo finishes inspections, and Baekhyun knows when he enters the gym because the crowd roars, cheering and booing alike. Kyungsoo approaches them, and gives Baekhyun a smirk that makes him weak in the knees. He hears Minseok giving Kyungsoo advice about the match and his opponent, but he can't process any of it, too distracted by Kyungsoo's aura of confidence (and maybe, just a little bit, his shirtlessness).

The referee calls the two fighters to the middle to summarize the main rules of the match, but neither Kyungsoo nor Taeyang are listening, making a show of sizing the other up and finding them somehow inadequate. The referee has them tap their gloves together, and then directs them back to their corners. Kyungsoo shares another look with Baekhyun, and that rougeish smirk is back, flickering across his mouth again, and Baekhyun's heart trips over its own beat. He stubbornly ignores Minseok's curious glance.

Then, the whistle. Neither Taeyang nor Kyungsoo immediately attack, choosing instead to circle each other, to feint with blows that both of them are too perceptive to flinch at. After what feels like too long, Taeyang finally strikes, lobbing his fist forward. Kyungsoo blocks with his forearms and immediately moves to defend himself against the follow-up left-handed punch.

The match continues like this, bluffs followed up with lightning-fast attacks, and Baekhyun watches on with bated breath. Yeah, Kyungsoo's at the top of his game tonight. Taeyang's skill is nothing to joke about, but Baekhyun sees how Kyungsoo gets in just a few more punches than Taeyang. He's a little faster, a little stronger, and it adds up.

Taeyang goes down in the first minute of the third round, and he doesn't get back up. The ref calls it, and the crowd erupts in a cacophony of excitement. With the referee holding up one of his hands in the air, Kyungsoo throws up his other fist, letting out a loud, victorious shout. His eyes meet Baekhyun's and he grins widely, and Baekhyun feels his own mouth mimicking the expression. He had no doubts that Kyungsoo would win, but pride fills his heart anyway. He and Minseok climb up into the ring, and Baekhyun tucks his smile into Kyungsoo's shoulder. He smells like sweat, and it should be gross but really it just makes Baekhyun impressed at how hard Kyungsoo works.

After shaking hands, making nice with the judges, Jongdae, and a few others, Baekhyun leads Kyungsoo back to the health office for the required post-match check-up.

Baekhyun forces his gait to stay even, refusing to let his eagerness make him do something stupid like trip over himself trying to get Kyungsoo alone again. He's hyperaware of the fighter behind him, unable to hear him over the din of the crowd echoing down the hall, but cognizant of his presence all the same.

Without being asked, Kyungsoo sits down on a cot, pulling off his gloves and setting them down next to him. Baekhyun sits on the other, facing him, their knees close enough to press together, and Baekhyun staggers them so he can lean forward. "Tell me if anything hurts," Baekhyun says, "and _be honest."_

Kyungsoo's lips quirk up in a smile, and he looks so fond it makes Baekhyun's chest hurt.

Baekhyun reaches out and presses Kyungsoo's forehead, then down his nose. His cheekbones, then his jaw, and as Baekhyun starts to pull back, satisfied with the lack of response and visible injuries, Kyungsoo reaches out, grabs his hand. His eyes close, and Baekhyun watches, forgetting to breathe, as Kyungsoo kisses the tips of each of his fingers, before pressing his mouth to the middle of his palm.

When Kyungsoo's eyes open, they're dark, smoldering, and heat tingles through Baekhyun's veins.

"I'm going to go shower," Kyungsoo says, his voice low and clear, and Baekhyun's cock twitches. "And then I want you to come home with me."

Baekhyun swallows hard as his body goes hot at the words, the implication, the _promise,_ between the lines. "Okay," he says, and he can't find it in himself to be self-conscious about how breathy and weak his own voice sounds.

Kyungsoo smiles, looking all too pleased. He brings Baekhyun's hand farther up to place a kiss on Baekhyun's wrist, one that ends with a gentle scrape of teeth, and the skin there is so thin, so sensitive, that Baekhyun feels it all the way in his dick.

Kyungsoo releases him, and before he can process it, is out of the office. Baekhyun is still staring dumbfounded at the door by the time he hears the shower turn on.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**You've Seen the Butcher**  
Deftones  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:31  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


As soon as the door to the house closes, Kyungsoo is _on_ him, bodily shoving him against the wall, and, fuck, Baekhyun is really, really into this manhandling. Kyungsoo's mouth lands on the corner of his own, and he licks at it before their lips properly seal together. Although they're roughly the same height, like this, pinned to the wall and hips tightly locked in Kyungsoo's strong hands, he feels small, overwhelmed in the best of ways.

One of Kyungsoo's hands slides down, grips Baekhyun's thigh, and hauls it up, hitching it on his hips before he rolls forward, grinding into Baekhyun in a way that flushes heat through his veins. He's not hard, not yet, but he's going to be soon.

"You better not have plans for grinding against the wall until we both come in our pants again," Baekhyun hisses without any real bite at all.

Kyungsoo's fingers squeeze harder, and it might be painful if Baekhyun doesn't find it so hot. "My plan," he says with another thrust forward, "involves you, my bed, and no pants at all."

"Fuck, _yes._ " Baekhyun's hands tighten on Kyungsoo's shoulders. "Please tell me we'll be getting to that plan soon."

Kyungsoo snorts. "No, I figured it be nice to make a pot of coffee first."

"I swear to God, Kyungsoo, if you—"

Kyungsoo darts forward and bites playfully at Baekhyun's bottom lip, gently pulling at it with his teeth to shut him up. He drops Baekhyun's leg, takes ahold of his hand, and pulls him deeper into the house, following a hall to get to a bedroom. He leaves the light off, but his blinds are open, and there's a streetlamp outside not too far away, providing enough light for Baekhyun to see the bed right before Kyungsoo knocks him down onto it.

Yeah. Baekhyun's really into the manhandling. He's also really into the way Kyungsoo looks down at him like Baekhyun is a piece of choice meat, like he's something Kyungsoo wants to devour whole.

Instead of immediately joining Baekhyun on the bed, Kyungsoo reaches back to grab his shirt by the scruff, pulling it over his head in one smooth movement. Baekhyun takes the hint, scrambles to get his clothes off, too. By the time he's naked, his clothes haphazardly tossed to Kyungsoo's floor, Kyungsoo is standing in his underwear, and he's holding a small bottle in his hand. Baekhyun puts two and two together. Between the appearance of lube and the thick shape of Kyungsoo's cock in his boxer briefs, Baekhyun is hard, now, and he needs Kyungsoo to touch him, like, ten minutes ago.

Finally, Kyungsoo kneels on the bed and crawls closer, and Baekhyun parts his legs for Kyungsoo to sidle between them. The dry, warm drag of skin on skin gives Baekhyun goosebumps, heat licking down his spine. Kyungsoo kisses him. Baekhyun's never liked kissing this much in his life, but maybe he's been kissing the wrong people because Kyungsoo is so damn good at it, always knowing where to lick, knows how much tongue is just right, knows when to suck on Baekhyun's lip or move down to his jaw or his neck. Kyungsoo's mouth is a sin and Baekhyun wants to know all the things it can do.

Kyungsoo plants one elbow on the side of Baekhyun's head, the other cupping his jaw as he uses it to guide Baekhyun whichever way he pleases. His hand creeps down Baekhyun's throat, his torso, and even if it's slow and going in one direction, it still surprises Baekhyun when it grips his cock and strokes.

 _"Hah,"_ Baekhyun pants into Kyungsoo's mouth. "A-ah, shit."

"Good?" Kyungsoo says, voice a deep rumble. Baekhyun gets out some vague sound of assent, and then loses his ability to think when Kyungsoo strokes again while mouthing at one of his nipples. He feels strung tight, a wire ready to snap at any moment.

Kyungsoo focuses on Baekhyun's pleasure for a few minutes, working him until he's leaking, wet, and he can't form any words besides Kyungsoo's name and curses. He finally pulls back, and it's only to push down his underwear. Baekhyun immediately hones in on the equipment he's going to be working at, and—fuck. Kyungsoo's got a nice cock, girthy, with a head that Baekhyun wants to suck on so badly, veins that he wants to trace with his tongue. It's going to fill him up so nicely, plug him up good.

Baekhyun's cock jerks against his stomach. Kyungsoo notices, snickers, and Baekhyun's half-expecting some dumb comment like _Do you like what you see?_ Instead, he gets the click of the bottle opening. Instead, he gets slick fingers sliding between his crack, passing over his entrance once, twice. Baekhyun spreads his thighs obscenely wide, pushing his hips up with the next drag of Kyungsoo's lubed fingers, and Kyungsoo concedes with little strokes right over his hole. Gradually, his fingers push harder and harder as they rub, until finally one breaches, and Kyungsoo eases it farther in.

It's so good. It's so, so good. Baekhyun makes a weak, pleading sound, rolling his hips up for more. "Another," he breathes, "one isn't enough."

"Of course it isn't," Kyungsoo says, twisting his finger in deeper, meaner. "Do you feel how you're sucking my finger in? You're so greedy."

And fuck, oh fuck, Kyungsoo's into dirty talk. He's got the perfect mouth to do it, the sexiest voice for it, and Baekhyun wants to explore that path some more but then Kyungsoo plunges another finger inside of him and he can't think about anything but that fullness, the rhythm of Kyungsoo thrusting his fingers deep inside of him.

Baekhyun is nothing if not vocal, and Kyungsoo plays him like an instrument, learning what makes Baekhyun cry out the loudest, what makes his body seize up.

Then three fingers. He's so full, and he wants more, he wants all of Kyungsoo. He's leaking onto himself, messy and sticky, and he wants. He wants so much.

"Please," Baekhyun whimpers, "please, I need—"

"I know what you need," Kyungsoo growls, and digs his fingers straight into Baekhyun's prostate, just holding them there, a point of concentrated pressure, his free hand pinning Baekhyun's hips down so he can't move away from the onslaught of pleasure. He chokes out a noise, a warning, a plea, he doesn't know. It's almost too much, _is_ too much, fuck, and Baekhyun's going to come, he's going to _come_ without being touched and—

And Kyungsoo pulls back. The pressure stops, and then Kyungsoo removes his fingers altogether, leaving Baekhyun to clench around nothing. "Fuck you," Baekhyun chokes out, and it's so close to being a sob, but he can't find it in himself to care. Kyungsoo, the fucker, has the audacity to laugh, a breathy little chuckle, and part of Baekhyun is vindicated that at least Kyungsoo isn't unaffected by this. Kyungsoo presses a kiss against Baekhyun's hip, another on his stomach, drags his mouth up his chest, his throat, his jaw. He slots their lips together, licking deep into Baekhyun's mouth, and it's hot and grounding at the same time.

Kyungsoo's hand slides between their bodies to grip himself, rubs his cock through the mess of lube between Baekhyun's thighs, using his hand to spread it around. Baekhyun impatiently wiggles, his hips kicking up against the length. Kyungsoo holds him down, holds him steady, and pushes in.

Baekhyun inhales with the intrusion, hyperaware of every inch of Kyungsoo's cock as it enters him. The burn of the stretch is so fucking good, the hurt adding the needed bite to the pleasure to make it that much more intense. When Kyungsoo's hips meet the backs of Baekhyun's thighs, he arches his back, stretches out, lets himself relish the fullness. Kyungsoo leans down and covers Baekhyun's collar bones with gentle kisses, rubbing his free hand, the one not holding him above Baekhyun, up and down his side. It's soothing. Baekhyun doesn't need to be soothed, doesn't need time to adjust, but he adores it anyways and lets Kyungsoo pamper him for a few moments before he purposefully clenches down.

It's quiet enough that Baekhyun can hear it when Kyungsoo's breath hitches, can feel the minute grind forward, as if Kyungsoo can't help himself. "Good," Baekhyun whispers. "It's good. I'm good."

For a moment, Kyungsoo doesn't move. He keeps his mouth pressed to Baekhyun's chest. Then, a slow but sure roll of his hips, followed by another, and Kyungsoo sets a metered pace, one that makes Baekhyun's toes curl with how good it is.

And Kyungsoo does make it good. He knows just how fast to go, how to provide the needed friction while still keeping Baekhyun on this side of needy. He puts a hand behind Baekhyun's knee and pushes it forward, up towards Baekhyun's shoulder, and it opens him up for Kyungsoo to reach deeper while adding a delicious strain in his thigh. It keeps him from rolling his hips up to meet Kyungsoo's thrusts, means he has no other option than to just _take_ it, take whatever Kyungsoo wants to give him.

And Kyungsoo gives him so much, and what he doesn't give, the strength that he's obviously holding back, almost overwhelms Baekhyun more. He's going deep and strong, but not the desperate sort of haste that Baekhyun has a habit of going for, chasing his gratification without enjoying the ride. Kyungsoo makes him feel it, makes him want, pulls his pleasure tighter and tighter. Baekhyun feels his throat working around a noise but can't hear himself, attuned to no other sound but the labor of Kyungsoo's breaths, his occasional low groan that never fails to make Baekhyun's cock bob against his stomach. He's leaking all over himself, covering his abdomen with pre-cum.

Kyungsoo wipes his hand through the mess, putting his extra weight on Baekhyun's raised leg to do so. He coats his hand with Baekhyun's pre-cum, making it slick when he wraps it around Baekhyun's weeping cock. Baekhyun yelps, startled by the shock of pleasure that rips through him—he's so sensitive, he's so fucking sensitive and Kyungsoo is in him and gripping him and pulling, stroking, thrusting, saying, "Come on, baby, come for me.

The pleasure goes taut for one overwhelming moment, and then snaps, and Baekhyun comes. He spills over Kyungsoo's hand, and Kyungsoo coaxes him through it with gentle strokes at odds with this last few thrusts, each more powerful than the last, and Baekhyun feels it when Kyungsoo comes, feels the heat of him, and it's going to feel gross later but it feels good now.

Kyungsoo slowly adjusts them, puts Baekhyun's leg back into a more comfortable position and smooths his hand across his thigh. He kisses Baekhyun's chest as he pulls out, and Kyungsoo is so fucking soft, now, and it fills Baekhyun with warmth.

He needs to get up and take a shower, or at least wash up, because he's going to feel disgusting soon enough.

They take turns in the bathroom, and by the time Baekhyun returns to bed, he feels like he's moments from passing out. He lies on his stomach, feels the dip of the bed as Kyungsoo slides in beside him, wrapping an arm around his middle and pulling him closer.

"I can't believe," Baekhyun says sleepily into the pillow, "that we didn't use protection. If I get an STD, I'm going to be beyond pissed."

Kyungsoo lets out a tiny, breathy chuckle. He leans over to press his mouth to Baekhyun's shoulder blade, and while his words come out in a snarky tone, it feels nice, the warm way they sink into his skin. "You've literally seen my health documents. I have to get tested every month."

He knows that, but it's still an awful habit to get into, not using protection the first time. "It should be every match," Baekhyun sniffs petulantly.

"If anything, I should be worried about _you_ giving _me_ some sort of disease."

Baekhyun, indignant enough to raise his head and look at Kyungsoo, says, "I'm a _doctor!_ I'm so meticulous about my health, this is an exception—"

"Stop yipping," Kyungsoo says, pulling Baekhyun back down against his chest, but he's smiling, his mouth forming that heart shape that Baekhyun can't—doesn't have to—stop himself from kissing.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**The Mountain**  
Three Days Grace  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:18  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


"So," Sehun says, dragging out the vowel, and Baekhyun beats him to the punchline. He knows what his neck looks like, and he knows he's had the "thoroughly fucked" glow about him since this morning.

"A guy from the gym," he explains. "One of the fighters. Yes, he's very hot, and yes he's muscular but like—not _too_ muscular, you know?"

"A fighter?" Sehun asks curiously, and Baekhyun realizes that while he said he's working at a gym, he hasn't explained what type of gym.

"Yeah, uh, like. MMA fighting? That's what the gym specializes in." Also gambling and fixed fights and probably some other shady things, but Sehun doesn't need to know that.

"Fighting, like . . . punching?"

"That is typically what fighting means, yeah." Baekhyun flops down on the couch, dramatically throwing an arm over his head. "Leave it to me to find the one gay guy in the straightest sport in the world."

Sehun laughs. "It's basically vibe checking someone over and over again, right? And they're not wearing shirts? It's not _that_ straight."

Baekhyun gapes at him. "Oh my God, you're right," he says, and Sehun laughs again.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Cryin' Like A Bitch!!**  
Godsmack  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:21  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


Baekhyun notices the wince Kyungsoo makes before he masks it again. And Kyungsoo's good at that, masking his face, but once you see what someone looks like when they come, it's easy to notice the other ways they can wear their feelings. And that feeling, the one Kyungsoo's trying to muscle through, is definitely pain.

Baekhyun thinks it's his knee that's causing the problem, his right one. It's that same exercise that Yixing's knee sometimes acts up during, and while Yixing narrows his eyes and bites his lip, Kyungsoo, after the twist of pain flashes across his face, goes impassive, stony.

Baekhyun considers saying something. But Kyungsoo wouldn't appreciate that concern brought up in front of everyone, and he looks determined to push through it with a commitment that Baekhyun doesn't think he can discourage even if he tries. Baekhyun keeps an eye on Kyungsoo throughout the day, watching for more signs of something wrong. If anything, Kyungsoo seems to be intentionally putting _more_ stress on that leg, as if for no other reason than proving to himself that he can. His suspicions are confirmed when he hears Minseok ask why he's doing jump ropes when it's not on his routine for today, and Kyungsoo just shrugs and says, "I felt like it."

So stubborn. He's so stubborn.

Baekhyun sidles up to Kyungsoo during a water break. "Stay after you're done for the night," he says quietly, brushing his fingers over the center of Kyungsoo's back.

Kyungsoo looks at him out of the corner of his eye, his throat working around a swallow, and Baekhyun can't help but be mesmerized by the movement of it, so much so that when Kyungsoo brings his bottle down and says, "Okay," Baekhyun has to remind himself what they were talking about, which definitely was not latching his mouth over Kyungsoo's Adam's apple.

He loiters around after the athletes start trickling out. He and Kyungsoo haven't really talked about what they've been doing, the past few days, stealing kisses here and there in dark corners and abandoned rooms—once, a mutual handjob in an empty shower stall—but they haven't gone home with each other since.

Baekhyun intercepts a freshly-showered Kyungsoo on his way back to his locker, his modesty only maintained by a towel wrapped around his waist. It's a delicious sight, and Baekhyun wants to take advantage of it, but no, there are more important matters at hand. "Come in here," Baekhyun says, holding open the door to the health office.

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. "What, you can't wait to jump me?" he asks with a leer, even as he obediently steps into the office.

"Not quite that," Baekhyun says, indulging him with a smile. "Could you lie down on the cot? On your stomach."

Kyungsoo gives him a curious look, but obeys. He's careful, Baekhyun notices, when he lets his knee rest against the cot, his movements slow when he lowers it and lets his weight settle there.

Baekhyun stands over Kyungsoo and flattens his hands against Kyungsoo's back, a gesture that's more of a way to let Kyungsoo know he's going to touch him than anything meant to massage him. It's a question, and Kyungsoo's lack of response is an answer, is permission. Baekhyun adjusts himself so he's not straining his own back by leaning uncomfortably. All the videos he's been watching have made it clear that the best masseur is a relaxed one.

He won't go straight for the knee. He'll get Kyungsoo relaxed first, so he won't fight against it. He starts by running his hands up and down Kyungsoo's back and neck, no pressure, just a tactile connection. Kyungsoo's skin is warm against his own, and softened with the heat of his shower, but no longer wet.

He feels it, when Kyungsoo relaxes. The tension leaves his body in one wave, and he seems almost to deflate. "Your hands are fuckin' magic," he mumbles, sounding a little drunk.

"You think? I haven't even show you everything my hands can do yet," he says lecherously, and it's mostly teasing, but there's a modicum of honesty there.

Kyungsoo picks up on it, and he turns his head to rest his cheek on the cot. His gaze is dark. "Do your massages come with a happy ending?"

Baekhyun fights the urge to shudder. "Maybe. If you play your cards right."

Kyungsoo sighs as Baekhyun adds pressure to his touch. He starts on Kyungsoo's neck, pressing hard into the muscles bracketing his spine and switching to his fingernails as he moves up across his scalp. The repetitive motions make Kyungsoo's eyes shut, and Baekhyun can see when Kyungsoo releases the natural clench of his jaw.

The first knot Baekhyun finds is at the top of his shoulder. He doesn't go for it right away, rubbing his shoulders, squeezing and releasing the thick muscle in the middle of his strokes and circling his thumb into the skin, before digging his fingers into the knot, slightly rubbing before just holding them in place, applying a concentrated pressure. He waits a few seconds, then gives Kyungsoo a break by massaging the length of his shoulders before he goes back to the knot. When the knot finally gives, Kyungsoo sighs. There are goosebumps on his skin now.

Baekhyun works his way down Kyungsoo's back, recalling how the instructors on the YouTube tutorials guided their hands across their clients' skin and mimicking the movements as best as he can. Kyungsoo's lower back muscles are strung tighter, and Baekhyun begins kneading the resistance out of them.

Kyungsoo sighs again, deep and long. He's relaxed now, probably enough that Baekhyun can start working on that knee. Baekhyun strokes his hands up and down Kyungsoo's back without pressure again, "finishing strokes," signalling the end of an area so clients don't feel abruptly cut off. "Turn around?" Baekhyun says.

Kyungsoo adjusts his back, stretching it out with a quiet grunt, and then rolls onto his back.

Baekhyun can see the lump of Kyungsoo's arousal under the towel, and Kyungsoo doesn't look embarrassed at all, instead closely watching Baekhyun's face, daring him to do something about it. And, oh, Baekhyun wants to do something about it. Baekhyun _really_ wants to do something about it. That he can turn Kyungsoo on like this, with just his hands on his back, is flattering, and lights a flame in Baekhyun's groin. But that knee comes first.

He starts on Kyungsoo's calf, the one on his god leg, smoothing his hands from Kyungsoo's ankle up to his knee and back down again, gradually increasing the pressure. "Fuck, that feels so good," Kyungsoo groans, and he sounds so pleased that Baekhyun can't bring himself to make an innuendo out of it, even if the bulge under Kyungsoo's towel is growing. His fingers eventually creep up Kyungsoo's thigh, up the sensitive skin and fingertips just barely sliding under the towel, teasing, before Baekhyun drags them back down.

The next time Baekhyun slides his hands up, Kyungsoo's hips lift as well, encouraging Baekhyun to slip his fingers farther up the towel. Baekhyun almost gives into temptation, but, no. Not yet.

He withdraws from Kyungsoo's good leg to start on the bad one. Kyungsoo sighs for the third time, but this one conveys his exasperation. "Whatever happened to that happy ending?" he demands. "I want my money back."

Baekhyun snickers, but he's focused on Kyungsoo's knee now, being careful about how much pressure he adds to it. He works Kyungsoo's calf, digging in hard the way that Kyungsoo seems to like it best, before ceasing all pressure at Kyungsoo's knee.

Kyungsoo tenses again when he realizes Baekhyun has shifted his focus to his knee. Baekhyun is gentle as he rubs his fingers over the thin muscles, coaxing him back into relaxing. "You noticed," Kyungsoo says, voice guarded.

"Yeah," Baekhyun says, and he wants to lecture Kyungsoo about taking care of himself, about resting enough and stretching properly, but he knows none of it would be appreciated, and Kyungsoo knows his body much better than Baekhyun does, so instead he does what he's able to do, which is fix him up after.

He'd spent the afternoon looking up massage techniques specific for knee pain and athletes, meaning that this type of massage isn't meant for relaxing, but healing. He rubs the knee and the spaces above, below, and beside it, gentle at first, just to gauge Kyungsoo's reaction. But the man is still, and after a minute of massaging, coaxed into relaxing again. No signs of discomfort or pain, so when Baekhyun's done warming up the tissue, he increases the pressure. He expands the area he's massaging, taking care to reduce his pressure on the nerve-dense iliotibial band as he focuses in that area above the knee.

He uses his thumbs, pushing inwards and down, gently tracing the line of muscles in the quadriceps. He recalls the videos he watched and finds the sweet spot to pause and push down in, holding his thumbs still with a constant application of pressure.

A sharp intake of breath. Baekhyun relents immediately, eyes widening. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"It's a good pain," Kyungsoo assures him. "I don't know what you're doing, but it's good."

Baekhyun looks back down, hiding his small, pleased smile. He rubs out Kyungsoo's knee again before pressing into the next trigger point. He's thorough and attentive, staying aware of Kyungsoo's responses, staying aware of the fact that Kyungsoo is still hard.

He runs his hands up and down the length of Kyungsoo's leg again. Then, he leans down and presses his mouth against Kyungsoo's kneecap, a warm brush of lips truncated with a kiss. Listening to the slow drag of Kyungsoo's sigh, Baekhyun trails a line of kisses up Kyungsoo's leg, slow and thorough. He lets himself lean down now, and the strain on his back is worth the hitch of Kyungsoo's breath when he unwraps the towel to continue his path. Kyungsoo's cock rests heavy on his abdomen. Baekhyun's mouth waters, but instead of going for it, he suddenly bites the skin next to Kyungsoo's hip bone before taking the flesh in his mouth and sucking hard.

Kyungsoo's cock jerks against his stomach, and there's a beat of pre-cum at the tip, and that's it, Baekhyun's self-control snaps. In one movement, he sucks Kyungsoo down, fitting his mouth around Kyungsoo's length.

 _"Shit,_ Baekhyun," Kyungsoo says through clenched teeth, and Baekhyun would be lying if he said that he isn't hard himself now just by getting Kyungsoo in his mouth. He anchors his hands on the tops of Kyungsoo's thighs, holding his weight there as he sinks his mouth farther down. Kyungsoo lets out a guttural sound, and then there are hands in Baekhyun's hair, the gentle scrape of fingernails across his scalp. Emboldened, Baekhyun relaxes his throat, forces himself down.

Kyungsoo's head tips back. His fingers tighten, and the movement slightly pulls Baekhyun down more, and Baekhyun's throat flutters even as his cock jerks. Kyungsoo lifts his hands away, looking down in concern, but Baekhyun stubbornly keeps himself low on Kyungsoo's cock, working his tongue over the hot flesh. He's desperate for the weight of Kyungsoo in his mouth, desperate for the mess of it, the heat. He looks up at Kyungsoo, gaze pointed, and _Please tell me you get it._

Kyungsoo gets it. His hands come back to rest on Baekhyun's head, slide down to grip the sides of his skull. Baekhyun closes his eyes and goes limp, pliant as Kyungsoo starts moving him the way he wants—or rather, doesn't move him. He holds Baekhyun's head still and tilts his hips forward, and it's not any deeper than Baekhyun's been taking him, but the loss of control has Baekhyun fully hard, now. Keeping one hand gripping Kyungsoo's thigh, he slides the other down his body to grind his palm over his groin. Kyungsoo pulls back only to nudge his cock deeper into Baekhyun's mouth. His guttural sigh goes straight to Baekhyun's own arousal. He's hot, throbbing, and he moans for it.

"Fuck, Baekhyun," Kyungsoo says, and he grips Baekhyun's skull harder to keep him in place when he finally thrusts for real, feeding his cock deep into Baekhyun's throat. Tears prick at Baekhyun's eyes, but it's good, it's so fucking good, and he's rolling his hips into his own hand now. "So fucking pretty," Kyungsoo says, voice rough, and Baekhyun might make a choked off sound, a whine, but the roar of heat in his ears is too loud for him to tell. He wiggles his hand into his pants, taking a firm grip of his cock and stroking hard and fast. He takes breaths when Kyungsoo lets him, focuses on the pleasure of being overwhelmed when Kyungsoo doesn't, and he loves every single second of it, of being used like a warm, wet cock sleeve for Kyungsoo to use to get off.

Kyungsoo's moans fall freely from his mouth now, lips parted as his thrusts quicken, and Baekhyun instinctively matches the speed of his hand to the rate at which Kyungsoo fucks his throat. Baekhyun can feel drool on his chin, but it doesn't even matter, not when Kyungsoo feels like this, tastes like this, sounds like Baekhyun is the only one who can make him this needy.

Kyungsoo twists his fingers in Baekhyun's hair and sharply tugs him forward, holds him there as he grinds into Baekhyun's face. Baekhyun chokes, his fingers on Kyungsoo's thigh scrambling for a better grip even as his hand on his cock tightens. _"Fuck,"_ Kyungsoo hisses, and pulls back just enough that when he comes, it's across Baekhyun's tongue.

Everything goes a little hazy, a little black at the edges. Baekhyun registers the taste of Kyungsoo's cum, the suckling movements of his mouth on it until Kyungsoo gently pulls him off. Then he's been moved, he's at eye-level with Kyungsoo now, and there's a hand gripping his wrist, pulling his own hand out of his pants and—it's wet. Baekhyun stares in confusion at his hand, the white, sticky substance coating it.

Oh, he realizes dimly. He came. In his pants. From Kyungsoo fucking his face.

Kyungsoo's expression is somewhere between amused and awed. He grabs the discarded towel to wipe off Baekhyun's face, then his hand, and Baekhyun lets him without comment. Then, Kyungsoo pulls Baekhyun close, kisses his cheek, then his ear.

Then: "You better be careful, otherwise you're going to make a habit out of coming in your pants at this rate."

Baekhyun makes a noise of mock outrage, the world finally coming back into focus. He weakly smacks his hand against Kyungsoo's pec. "That's not how you thank someone for giving you the best suck of your life."

Kyungsoo grips Baekhyun's wrist and pulls it back, bringing Baekhyun's face close to his, and Baekhyun feels stupid at the way his heart flutters at the proximity. He just had this man's dick in his mouth. "Don't act like that was an act of altruism," Kyungsoo says, voice soft and heated. "You got off as hard as I did."

Baekhyun makes a noise of embarrassment and hides his face in Kyungsoo's shoulder. Kyungsoo laughs, and Baekhyun can imagine the heart-shaped smile of his mouth, the way his eyes squint a little. "Maybe," Baekhyun concedes with a pout.

"Maybe," Kyungsoo scoffs, but he holds Baekhyun a little tighter.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Slow Motion**  
Nickelback  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:32  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


They've been making a habit of driving home together in Kyungsoo's Oldsmobile—and fuck, that car is old, how the hell has Kyungsoo even kept that thing intact for all these years? They don't even make those things anymore, do they?

Minseok sometimes gives them pointed looks but never says anything. Chanyeol isn't as discreet, waggling his eyebrows and making subtle comments about what sort of activities the two of them must get up to after hours. Whenever this happens, Baekhyun is shameless and just grins. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, acts like he's tough and doesn't care, but the red of his ears gives him away.

Kyungsoo steps into the health office to wait for Baekhyun to finish up, shutting the door behind him. There are still people around, so he can't try anything hinky. Shouldn't try anything hinky. Baekhyun might not stop him if he does.

Instead of trying anything hinky, though, Kyungsoo stops and his eyes narrow, honing in on the bluetooth speaker on Baekhyun's desk. "What is this garbage?"

Baekhyun frowns, immediately defensive of Girls' Generation. His music might not be "cool" and "edgy" like Kyungsoo's or the other fighters, but it's just as energetic, and it makes him happy. But that's sappy, so he goes at a different angle. "You literally have no room to talk. I heard Nickelback on your workout playlist this morning."

Kyungsoo sits down on one of the cots. It's the same one that they fucked around on yesterday, and Baekhyun's toes curl at the memory, and he almost falls into it, almost misses Kyungsoo's, "It's from the 2004 Punisher soundtrack, before Nickelback was a joke." He sounds a little bit whiny, and Baekhyun doesn't usually think about how Kyungsoo's actually younger than him, but it's apparent now. Fondness makes the edges of Baekhyun's mouth twitch.

Fondness also makes Baekhyun want to tease him more. "That means nothing to me. Nickelback is always a joke."

"You—you piss me off so much sometimes."

Baekhyun leers. "You gonna do something about it?"

Later, after Baekhyun sucks Kyungsoo off in his car and the latter starts up the engine, a song Baekhyun doesn't recognize comes up on Kyungsoo's shuffle. No, he doesn't recognize the song, but he _does_ recognize the voice, he thinks.

His eyes light up, and Kyungsoo already looks beleaguered and embarrassed before Baekhyun even says anything. He exaggerates the dismay, the gleeful judgement in his voice as he asks, "Is this _Creed?"_

"Oh my God, please shut up."

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**What If**  
Creed  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 5:18  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


Baekhyun doesn't know what the absolute fuck Minseok and Junmyeon are doing, setting up a practice match between Luhan and Kyungsoo. They're going to murder each other.

"They're going to murder each other," Baekhyun relays to Minseok. He's in Kyungsoo's corner with Minseok, sparing a glance at Junmyeon as he climbs into the ring to act as a referee before turning back to Luhan. The fighter has a steely glint in his eye, hard and determined, and Baekhyun doesn't like it at all. Kyungsoo and Luhan have been giving each other a wide berth in the weeks following their confrontation, the one that saw Baekhyun as collateral damage, like two pack animals who had fought and are unwilling to cooperate but are caged in the same space. A few of the other fighters—Jongin, Zitao, and Chanyeol—have gathered ringside to watch the spectacle.

And it _is_ a spectacle. Entertainment that panders to the grossest human fascination with people beating the shit out of each other, especially people that actively dislike each other.

"They are not going to murder each other," Minseok says with a smile that comes off as a little patronizing, like Baekhyun doesn't know what he's talking about, but Minseok still finds his concern sweet. "Besides, this is the best way for both of them to train. They don't have the same 'I want to beat you more than anything else' dynamic with anyone else, and that sort of mentality is what they need during official matches."

 _Official._ The irony isn't lost on Baekhyun.

Baekhyun sighs and leans against the corner post. "Right," he duly says, his flat voice at odds with his acknowledgement.

"Don't worry so much," Minseok says, nudging Baekhyun's shoulder with his own. "Kyungsoo needs this. He's got a Saturday match against Jackson Wang, who's probably the strongest opponent for Kyungsoo in their weight class. Luhan's the one person in this gym who he'd refuse to lose against, especially if _you're_ watching." He says this last bit with a smirk.

Baekhyun focuses on where Junmyeon calls the two of them to the center of the ring. "I don't know what you're talking about," he says, moreso out of obligation than any sort of embarrassment. The two of them have been sleeping together enough that sex has turned into cuddling on the couch and ordering delivery dinners, and it's domestic enough that they should probably talk about the definition of their relationship. But they haven't talked about seeing each other to anyone else, so Baekhyun isn't going to confirm anything.

"Oh, come on, Baekhyun, I have eyes," Minseok laughs, and it's compounded by the confident smile Kyungsoo gives Baekhyun as he returns to his corner. But Minseok immediately drops the subject to put on his no-nonsense game face when Junmyeon calls the beginning of the match.

Neither fighters move forward, and both keep their heads tucked down defensively. Baekhyun's too far away to hear their jibes, but the tone of their voices is bitter enough. It's a waiting game, and Baekhyun thinks Kyungsoo is generally more patient, but that look on Luhan's face . . .

Luhan feints a few times, and Kyungsoo is tense enough to flinch. Immediately following the third feint, Kyungsoo dashes forward with a burst of energy. Luhan is prepared for it, blocking the first jab, taking the second in stride, and moving quick to connect with the following kick. Luhan's retaliation comes in a series of powerful punches. The onslaught is fierce enough that Kyungsoo has to fall back a few steps, and Luhan presses his advantage, not letting up for more than a second.

Baekhyun has been there for a few of Luhan's fights. The fighter is always aggressive, but this is remarkable even for him, the brutality and speed with which he strikes. He's fast enough that Kyungsoo can't get up some of his blocks, and has to dodge backwards. He's going to get Kyungsoo into a corner, Baekhyun realizes with dread. He won't have anywhere to go soon enough.

But Kyungsoo regains his bearings, and somehow manages to hold his ground, giving Luhan a few blows that are bound to leave nasty bruises. Baekhyun's relieved sigh drains him, and he slumps, deflated. Minseok pats his back reassuringly.

Kyungsoo makes it through the first round well enough, a little battered but not even half as concerned as Baekhyun. "He's out for blood, isn't he?" Kyungsoo says with a savage grin. The fresh cut through his lip makes him look feral. He doesn't flinch at any of Baekhyun's first aid procedures. Minseok doesn't have a lot of feedback or advice, seeing as how familiar the fighters are with each other. Just a reminder of what Baekhyun had been thinking: "Don't let him back you into a corner. Get those blocks up faster, Kyungsoo."

Kyungsoo nods. Not a second later, he's climbing back into the ring.

The second round starts off well enough, carrying on the momentum of the first. They don't exchange taunts anymore, and the only sounds are those of feet moving, flesh slamming against flesh, and pained grunts.

Baekhyun doesn't know how Luhan knows. About the knee. Kyungsoo had been quiet about it, not even saying anything to Minseok, and Baekhyun hadn't breathed a word of it to anyone. Maybe Luhan didn't know before. Maybe Luhan had noticed some sort of look on Kyungsoo's face when he dodged back too hard, or too fast. Maybe it's a matter of luck, that Luhan whips his leg out, and his calf strikes just right, just _wrong,_ and Kyungsoo folds. Surprise flickers across Luhan's face for less than a second before he launches forward, mounting Kyungsoo, and Baekhyun can't see the punches land but he can _hear_ the sickening thud of knuckles against flesh.

"Junmyeon," Baekhyun yells, panicked, but the coach is already diving forward to hook his arms under Luhan's. Luhan doesn't back off, his fists hammering down until Junmyeon _yanks_ back. Minseok moves faster than Baekhyun can process, already in the ring to help haul Luhan to the other side, and then Baekhyun stops paying attention to what's happening on the other side of the ring.

All of his attention is on Kyungsoo.

He almost trips over himself to get closer, heart pounding painfully against his ribcage. Kyungsoo is lying on his back, and his face isn't quite twisted in pain—still stubborn, even now, Baekhyun thinks with fondness and exasperation—but his jaw is clamped tight, nostrils flaring.

There's no outward signs of Kyungsoo's injury, no redness or swollenness, which is even more concerning to Baekhyun, because there's obviously something wrong. "Minseok," Baekhyun says, not taking his eyes off of Kyungsoo in case he tries to do something dumb like try to stand up, "can you help me get him to the health room?"

Minseok's at Kyungsoo's side a few seconds later. Kyungsoo looks like he's going to argue, but Baekhyun begs, "Kyungsoo, _please,"_ and he stays silent. Minseok gets Kyungsoo's arm over his shoulder, and Baekhyun wiggles under the other. They stand up at the same time, lifting Kyungsoo upright. Baekhyun remembers the last time he had to carry him, the first time they met, the heaviness of his muscle-dense body. The adrenaline flooding Baekhyun's system right now makes Kyungsoo feel light.

They lower Kyungsoo down on the cot closest to the door, and instead of lying down, Kyungsoo stubbornly remains sitting. He plants the foot of his good leg on the ground, resting his injured one on the cot.

Minseok investigates the injury. "It's not red or swollen or anything," he says. "That's a good thing, right?" His voice sounds uncertain, though, like he knows it's just wishful thinking. He's been in this business long enough to know better.

"That just means it's not something very obvious, like a break," Baekhyun mutters. He sits down, gently raises Kyungsoo's knee to rest it on his lap. He gently presses down on Kyungsoo's knee, and the fighter hisses in pain. "Tender . . ." Baekhyun steels himself for the response he knows is coming next when he continues, "He needs to see a doctor."

"You _are_ the doctor," Minseok says, but the worry on his face betrays him. He knows Baekhyun's right.

"I don't have the equipment to be able to find out what's wrong," Baekhyun says. The ache of stress hammers through his head like a mallet on a gong. "He needs a hospital."

"No hospitals," Kyungsoo says emphatically, voice raising. It's just like the first time Baekhyun had to look after him, except unlike that time, Baekhyun can't fix him up in a bathroom.

"You need a hospital," Baekhyun insists, his own voice increasing in volume to match Kyungsoo's. "Bathroom surgery isn't going to cut it this time, Kyungsoo. What if you tore cartilage, or hurt a tendon?"

"We can't get hospitals involved," Minseok says. "We can't risk anything getting traced back here."

"That's literally not how hospitals work." And Baekhyun could go on about the legality of it, HIPAA and the other policies that would protect them—why would law enforcement even care about a knee injury, it's not like a stab wound or a bullet hole, Jesus fucking Christ—but he knows neither Minseok nor Kyungsoo are going to back down. Not with the threat of Jongdae behind them. He breathes in slowly, holds his breath for three seconds, exhales, and then says, "Then at least cancel the match on Saturday. Kyungsoo needs to rest and heal."

"Out of the question," Kyungsoo snaps. Minseok says nothing, but the immediate frown on his face speaks for itself. Shit, Baekhyun's not going to win this argument, either. He needs a new angle.

"Then ask Jongdae to have it fixed for him to lose," Baekhyun pleads. "He can set that up, right? Kyungsoo doesn't have to go the full three rounds—"

"That's not up to us," Minseok says, even as Kyungsoo's face shutters. Baekhyun's brows pinch together.

"Kyungsoo," Baekhyun quietly says, "I can't do anything to help you besides ice and pain killers. If you keep going on as it is, you're going to hurt yourself worse, and maybe permanently."

"Then we do ice and pain killers," Kyungsoo says flatly, not looking at Baekhyun anymore. Baekhyun's chest aches at being so obviously closed out.

"We won't do any training that puts strain on his legs," Minseok offers, and that's really all Baekhyun can hope for at this point. When Kyungsoo doesn't argue, Minseok continues, "I'll let Junmyeon know," and backs out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Baekhyun swallows hard. "Kyungsoo, please. I'm not just offering my opinion as a doctor. I'm worried for you as your—"

As a what? What are they? Friends with benefits? Fuck, they're more than that, he knows they are. They both do. Baekhyun can't just say "friends," but fuck, now isn't the time to go around throwing around new words like "boyfriend."

". . . I care about you," Baekhyun continues lamely. "I don't want this to affect your career. I don't . . . want you to be in pain."

For a long time, Kyungsoo closes his eyes. It's so quiet that Baekhyun could probably hear a pin drop, a towel drop, the hammering of his own heart.

He opens his eyes, and his gaze is hard, unyielding, and a part of Baekhyun withers. And he says, "I don't want you at my match on Saturday."

Baekhyun's heart sinks. "What?"

"You heard me." Kyungsoo swings his leg over, intentionally careless, as if showing off that he's fine, that the pain is tolerable, but the set of his jaw tightens when he stands up. His voice doesn't betray his hurt, though, when he continues, "If you're that upset, you won't want to watch anyways."

"I'm your cutman," Baekhyun argues, and he can't keep him from sounding more desperate than logical. "You _need_ me there, especially if your injuries will be more complicated than cuts and bruises!"

"I'm serious, Baekhyun," Kyungsoo says with finality. "Don't come." And then he's gone, out the door. Distantly, Baekhyun can hear the second click of the locker room door closing behind him, foreboding and absolute.

Baekhyun curls into himself, holding his head between his knees, and hurts.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Silly Beast**  
Sevendust  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 4:43  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


It's not that they give each other the cold shoulder in the following days. They still talk. Baekhyun refuses to let his pride get in the way of still taking care of Kyungsoo's leg, still icing it, stretching it, massaging it. None of their massages result in a happy endings, but Kyungsoo still invites Baekhyun over when the day is done, fucks him quietly, gently, like this tension between them will break them both if he makes any sudden movements.

By Saturday, Baekhyun has the tentative hope that Kyungsoo will take it back, that he'll let Baekhyun stay for the match. But Kyungsoo is careful to avoid eye contact with Baekhyun, careful to not talk about the match at all.

So that night, Baekhyun goes home, watches TV with Sehun, and does his best not to think about the surely doomed match.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Heavy Prey**  
Lacey Sturm, Geno Lenardo  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 4:16  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


. . . is what should have happened, and what would have happened if Baekhyun was anyone other than, well, Baekhyun. What the hell is he doing? Kyungsoo can't tell him what to do. That's the only realization he needs for him to justify grabbing his sweatshirt and phone and darting out the door. "Where are you going?" Sehun calls after him, but by the time Baekhyun processes what his roommate is asking, the door is already shut between them, and the match is starting, like, _now o'clock._ There's no time to go back and explain.

Maybe it's disrespectful, not obeying Kyungsoo's request to not be at the match. But Baekhyun has a bad feeling, and if Kyungsoo isn't going to care about his own well-being, then Baekhyun will.

He doesn't even know what he plans on doing when he gets there. Causing a scene at all is likely to get him on Jongdae's shit list, which is a place he absolutely doesn't want to be. Best case scenario, Kyungsoo is fine, the knee is healed enough after resting for a few days in a row. Worst case scenario . . . Baekhyun doesn't want to think about it. At least they'll have a trained doctor on the scene.

He slips in through the alley door, and he can hear the din of the crowd even back here, distorted by the acoustics of the hallway. The match has already started. Shit, shit, shit. He doesn't run, but each third step is more of a long skip than a stride.

The crowd is a thick wall between him and the ring, and he has to shove his way through, and he shouts a cursory "Sorry!" to the people who curse at him but can't find the shame enough to be genuinely embarrassed or even apologetic.

He gets all the way up to the metal fencing around the ring, the one that keeps the crowd at bay to offer a walking space for the officials. From here, he can see that the match has just started. There's no blood yet, and both fighters still have dry skin, devoid of the sheen of sweat. For a second, Baekhyun thinks maybe he's overreacting.

But then Baekhyun really _looks._

Kyungsoo's footwork is sloppy, and he's definitely favoring his bad leg, shifting is weight off-center. And if Baekhyun can see that, then his opponent definitely can, too.

His opponent, Jackson, isn't much when it comes to height, but he's pure muscle. It takes less than a minute for him to show Baekhyun that he's lacking in neither strength nor speed, and his blocks look pretty solid, too. Analytical enough to already start targeting Kyungsoo's leg. Kyungsoo keeps his leg back, keeps his blocks fast, but there's only so long he can go without slipping, and if he slips once, it's all over. He'll go down. And that might be in Baekhyun's favor, bringing him out of the match so he can finally rest. But there's a chance that Kyungsoo's going to mess his knee up for good.

Baekhyun leaps the fence. One of the few security guards notices him and takes a step forward, but he must recognize Baekhyun, because he waves him on.

Minseok looks just as concerned as Baekhyun feels, a small crease in his brow and his mouth pulled in a thin line. He jerks back in surprise when Baekhyun grips his shoulder. "Baekhyun," he says in surprise. "I thought Kyungsoo said he told you not to come."

"Yeah, he did," Baekhyun says, and doesn't offer any explanation. The surprise is quick to leave Kyungsoo's expression, though, and he doesn't need to ask to know that Baekhyun is here because he's worried, because he cares.

At the same moment they turn their heads back to the match, Jackson lands the first kick to Kyungsoo's knee. Kyungsoo wobbles, almost falls, but grabs Jackson's thigh and sweeps Jackson's foot from underneath him with his bad leg. Jackson goes down, but rolls out of the way before Kyungsoo can pin him, and Kyungsoo has to scramble to get back.

Baekhyun has never seen Kyungsoo this sloppy before. "Minseok," he says pleadingly, and Minseok just shakes his head.

The referee calls the end of the first round. Kyungsoo can't hide his limp as he returns to his corner, and he doesn't look surprised at all when he sees Baekhyun. "Took you long enough," he says sarcastically, but the acidity is tempered by the strain in his voice.

There isn't anything much to do for Kyungsoo besides Minseok handing Kyungsoo an ice pack for his knee, no scrapes or bruises to address. Kyungsoo has spent most of this match dodging and blocking. He won't be able to keep it up for the rest of the match, though.

"You have to forfeit," Baekhyun says. Kyungsoo doesn't even spare a glance in his direction. "Kyungsoo," Baekhyun pleads.

"Hang in there, buddy," Minseok says, gripping Kyungsoo's shoulder. It's the last thing any of them say before the referee calls the two fighters back to the ring.

It soon becomes apparent that Jackson is even more determined to get at Kyungsoo's knee. He lands a hit, then two, and Baekhyun, more than anyone else, knows how much pain Kyungsoo must be in for it to finally show up in his face, the agonized strain around his eyes and brows, the bearing of his teeth, the sluggish movements.

He goes down a few times, and Jackson tries to pin him, but he always manages to get out of the pin before the referee can call it. Kyungsoo isn't going to give up a fair match. He has too much pride.

"Minseok, he needs to get out of there," Baekhyun says, his voice more sure and demanding than begging. "We need to get him out of there."

"No, Baekhyun," Minseok says. "Jongdae would . . ."

"I don't care," Baekhyun says. He sifts through his options, the rules, anything that could— "A technical knock out," Baekhyun says, his heart thumping wildly. "I can call a technical K.O." Kyungsoo might be mad at him, might not forgive him. Baekhyun can live with that. That's Baekhyun's decision to make, not theirs, if the fighter is too injured, in the physician's professional opinion, to continue.

Except Minseok shakes his head. "No, you can't."

"I'm the cutman," Baekhyun argues, but his stomach twists in nervousness because Minseok sounds so sure of it.

"No, you aren't, not for this match. You weren't here during the inspections. I was registered as the cutman."

God damn it. God _damn_ it. If only Minseok's concern for Kyungsoo outweighed his fear of Jongdae. It's an understandable fear, but right now, Baekhyun can't help but hate him for it.

Jackson's landing hit after hit now. Kyungsoo must be in so much pain, if he can't even get his blocks up properly. His head snaps back at a jab to the chin, and, fuck, isn't that the very first rule of fighting, or something? Keep your chin down? Kyungsoo looks dazed, and Jackson's next jab knocks him over. Baekhyun thinks with equal amounts of dread and relief that this is it. This is his knockout, and he's going to be _actually_ knocked out. Except at the last second, Kyungsoo rolls out of the way and stumbles to his feet with the finesse of a drunkard.

"I'm gonna tell Jongdae to end it," he tells Minseok. "If anyone can end it, it's him, if you won't."

Minseok gapes at him as if he has just proposed the most idiotic thing in the world. He probably has. "You can't be serious," Minseok says, voice thin.

"What choice do I have?" Baekhyun snarls. As though compounding his reply, Kyungsoo lets out a cry of pain. Baekhyun can't stand to watch this. He has to do something.

He finds Jongdae standing by the judges' table. He looks irritated, but not worried, not the way Baekhyun and Minseok are. He has a hand in the pocket of his slacks, the other holding a plastic bottle of water. He raises an eyebrow at Baekhyun. "I hired you to be a cutman, didn't I?" he asks. "Where were you?"

"I—that's not important right now," Baekhyun says, drawing Jongdae's other eyebrow up. "Jongdae, please, you need to call off the match."

"Do I, now?"

The words are as sharp as a knife, but Baekhyun doesn't have the time to be intimidated. "There's something really wrong with his knee," Baekhyun says. "He shouldn't have been allowed to fight at all. If he doesn't forfeit, he's going to be permanently injured, if he hasn't been already."

Jongdae takes a long drink from his water, slow and unhurried, and Baekhyun is pretty sure it's moreso to prove a point— _this isn't important enough to warrant agency_ or _I don't have to listen to you at all_ —than it is because he's actually thirsty. Then, he says, "You can't just call off a match because your favored fighter isn't winning."

"That's not the point!" Baekhyun shouts. He might be imagining the twitch of Jongdae's eye. That's not his concern right now. "Please, do something, you have to. He's going to—"

Jongdae sighs. "I do hate being told what to do." He flicks his hand at Baekhyun. "Would you escort him out?"

A man who Baekhyun hadn't seen lurking behind Jongdae steps out, and a second later, has a vice-like grip on Baekhyun's arm. Baekhyun shouts in pain and surprise. Jongdae doesn't even smirk at him, which would have been better than the way he now turns his attention back to the match, completely dismissing Baekhyun from his thoughts. Baekhyun struggles in vain to break free from the man's hold. It might as well be like trying to break free of a handcuff.

The referee calls the second round. Kyungsoo looks like he's going to pass out. Even from here, Baekhyun can see that, can see how Minseok has to physically move Kyungsoo's head to get him to drink. Minseok should be getting an enswell on that left eye, or adrenaline chloride on the head wound. Fuck. Kyungsoo's skin is so pale and clammy under the harsh lights.

Baekhyun's dragged out through the main entrance, which is kind of disconcerting because he's never actually used this door before. He's also never been "escorted out" by security before, either. The man gives Baekhyun a threatening look and a "If you know what's best for you, you'll get out of here." He watches Baekhyun for a few seconds, like he's waiting for Baekhyun to try to dart back in. When he's sure that Baekhyun isn't that stupid, he goes back inside, slamming the door behind him for good measure.

Baekhyun sits down on the curb, staring at his shoes. Bites his lip. Weighs his options.

This is so fucked up. This whole—everything. Kyungsoo fighting when he shouldn't be. Minseok not having his back. Jongdae being . . . Jongdae. And at the heart of it all, this stupid, illegal fighting ring.

Kyungsoo looked like he was near death out there. There must be something else wrong with him, Baekhyun thinks, some sickness or pain that he hadn't wanted Baekhyun to know about. Christ. He's so, so stubborn, and Baekhyun wants to clobber him as much as he wants to take care of him. And right now, there's only one clear way of doing that, at least in a way that can potentially save him before the match ends with his knee permanently fucked up.

Baekhyun takes out his phone and dials 911.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Face to the Floor**  
Chevelle  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:38  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


Law enforcement is there within minutes, and the ambulance isn't far behind. The match won't be over by now. It's a bit anticlimactic on Baekhyun's end. He stands off to the side, stomach twisting itself into anxious knots, while he watches a flood of people all making a run for it out the side alley door. There's too many people for law enforcement to detain them all. The officers seem more intent on securing the scene than chasing anyone down, though.

Neither Jongdae nor Minseok are part of the crowd. There are other doors that they can escape from. Baekhyun hopes Minseok, at least, gets out safe. Wherever Jongdae is, though, Baekhyun just hopes he never sees him again. It's a stupid wish. Jongdae will know that Baekhyun is the one who caused this, and there's no way he won't come after him for this.

But that's a future problem for a future Baekhyun. Present Baekhyun is only worried about Kyungsoo.

Law enforcement sends in the EMTs after ensuring that the scene is safe. They bring Kyungsoo out on a gurney. The fighter's eyes are shut, his brows pulled tight, and there's blood all over his face. The culprit: a cut on his lip on the opposite side from his scar.

"Let me come with you," Baekhyun says, following the EMTs to the ambulance.

The EMT fixes him with a stare. "Are you next of kin?"

"No, I'm—" and he almost says _boyfriend,_ not knowing whether or not it'd be a lie at this point. "I'm his doctor," he ends up saying honestly. The EMT nods and waits for Baekhyun to clamber in after them before he closes the door. The lead EMT gives the okay to go to the hospital, and the driver is off, leaving behind the police to clean up the rest of the mess.

The hospital. God. Kyungsoo is going to be so pissed.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**ULTRAnumb**  
Blue Stahli  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 4:25  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


They pull into the hospital and are received by an emergency team. "Stats," one of the medical staff calls out, and Baekhyun replies, a knee-jerk reaction, even if the command isn't directed at him. Baekhyun knows Kyungsoo's medical history better than _Kyungsoo_ probably does. He rattles off his height, weight, the medicines he's on, his allergies, mentions the high blood pressure on his mom's side of the family. He speaks clearly and steadily, his doctor training kicking in at a time when all he wants to do is shake apart. The staff member levels him with a curious gaze over the top of their face mask, but nods.

"His knee," Baekhyun says urgently as they start rolling Kyungsoo away. "His right knee is injured somehow."

"We'll see to it," someone calls back. Then the team sweeps Kyungsoo's gurney through a door, and Baekhyun doesn't have time to feel winded because a nurse approaches him with a clipboard, a pen, and a thick packet of intake information. Baekhyun takes the packet and finds a spot to sit in the E.R. lobby. He wishes he had contact information for anyone in Kyungsoo's family.

The lobby is quiet and stale, the carpet, furniture, and walls colored shades of beige and very subdued plum, and there are two secretaries at a desk silently working on computers. It's a far cry from the rest of the hospital, which Baekhyun knows from experience is always _go, go, go._ He hates being up here, where all there is to do is wait.

He can't fill out most of this information. He knows Kyungsoo's name, gender, sex, age, physical dimensions. He doesn't know his social security number, or his address.

He pulls out his phone to look at Kyungsoo's contact information. Right as he unlocks it, it begins vibrating with an incoming call. Minseok's name flashes across the screen. Anger flares through Baekhyun, and it's out of spite that Baekhyun answers. "I'm not sorry," Baekhyun snaps in lieu of a greeting.

"Baekhyun," Minseok says, sounding relieved. Then his tone goes defensive. "I wasn't blaming you for anything! Are you okay?"

Baekhyun's hackles relax. "Yeah, I'm fine. Are you?"

"Yeah, Junmyeon pulled me out of there. I didn't want to leave Kyungsoo but—fuck! That's what I was calling about. Baekhyun, I can't get a hold of Kyungsoo. I don't know what happened to him, and I don't think he has his phone on him."

"No, he's here," Baekhyun says, and he almost follows that up with, _He's fine,_ but Baekhyun doesn't even know that, and irritation creeps back into his skull in the form of a headache. Kyungsoo's getting the help he needs, and that's what's most important. "We're at the hospital. They just took him back. They haven't told me what's wrong with him yet."

"At the hospital. Right. Of course. The hospital." Baekhyun gets the feeling that Minseok is on the cusp of a breakdown, and Minseok's panic, for some reason, makes him feel calmer. "The _hospital?"_

"He should have gone there days ago, Minseok," Baekhyun says, unrepentant. "He should've gotten that knee checked out before the match. I don't think it was just his knee, either. He looked—"

"I know," Minseok says. "After you were brought out, he looked . . . it was bad. I think he's been hiding something else, too."

Baekhyun remembers the way Kyungsoo looked before the doors closed, during the break between the second and third round. For those few seconds, Kyungsoo was more corpse than man.

Minseok is there within half an hour, and it must have started to ran because his hoodie is wet. He looks small like this, and Minseok's always been tiny, but his presence—and his muscles—always made him seem bigger. Hidden in his damp hoodie, though, he looks similar to a cat that just got dunked in a bathtub.

"Any news?" Minseok asks, seating himself next to Baekhyun.

Baekhyun shakes his head. They're silent, after that, Baekhyun sending off a few texts to Sehun to quell his roommate's progressively more concerned messages. Minseok's foot taps a nervous rhythm on the floor. Only a handful of other people are here in the lobby at this time of night, and they all look just as tired as Baekhyun feels. Everyone looks up in tandem each time a nurse appears out of the keycard-locked doors to update a patient's family, or bring them back to visit. It takes several of these false alarms before a nurse finally calls out Baekhyun's name. Minseok and Baekhyun jerk to a standing position and scurry over.

"Kyungsoo is in stable condition," she says as she scans her card over the lock, allowing them access to the hallways beyond the lobby. "He had signs of overexertion, probably due to athletic activity. We'll keep him here overnight for monitoring. He'll need to schedule scans for his knee as soon as possible. I took a look at our schedules, and we can get him in as soon as Monday. You can go ahead and talk to the receptionist to pick a time." She stops in front of one of the hospital rooms, a hand on the doorknob. "He's sleeping right now, but that's due to exhaustion, not because of head injury or anesthetic."

Kyungsoo doesn't look pale anymore, at least. Baekhyun doesn't like seeing him hooked up to a machine, but he looks alive. Healthier than Baekhyun's seen him all week, really. Baekhyun's pleased to note that he's got proper dressings on all of his cuts.

The nurse excuses herself with a gentle reminder that it's technically after visiting hours, so they can't stay too long. Minseok sighs, looking at Kyungsoo regretfully. "I can't stay long, anyways. I have to get home to my family. You can take it from here?"

Baekhyun nods, settling down in the chair next to the head of the bed, opposite from the machine Kyungsoo is wired to. "Taking care of him is kinda my thing at this point, I guess," Baekhyun says with a small smile.

"It is, isn't it?" Minseok hesitates. "You know," he starts, "I'm glad that he has you, now." Baekhyun stares at him, caught off-guard, and even Minseok looks a bit startled at his own heartfelt admission, but he presses on. "I'm glad that you cared enough to step in when I was too scared to, and when he was too stubborn to."

"He might not agree with you," Baekhyun says with a nervous chuckle. "He's going to be so pissed when he realizes I brought him to a hospital."

"Yeah, well, tell him I said he needs to stop being a big baby."

"He is kind of a baby, isn't he? Stubborn. Likes getting his way." And strong, and attentive, and witty, and caring, and a whole lot of other things. Baekhyun reaches out and wraps his fingers around Kyungsoo's lax hand. "I think I'm in love with him."

"Oh, Baekhyun," Minseok says, "I hope you're not just realizing this now. We all knew this."

"Shut up," Baekhyun says without any heat to it. Minseok laughs, and Baekhyun's familiar enough to the coach by now that he expects the firm clap on his shoulder before it comes a second later.

"Take care. Not just of him, but of yourself, too, you hear? And tell Kyungsoo that when he heals up, I'll put out feelers at a couple of gyms for him."

"Legal ones, this time," Baekhyun immediately says.

"Legal ones," Minseok confirms with a smile. "See you around, Baekhyun."

Minseok leaves, and Baekhyun takes the chance to look at Kyungsoo again, really look at him. He strokes his thumb across the back of Kyungsoo's hand as he does so. He remembers thinking that he wanted to know what the scar on the side of Kyungsoo's upper lip tasted like, the first time he saw it. How lucky he is that he knows now.

Kyungsoo takes in a deep breath, and squeezes Baekhyun's hand. "In love with me, huh?"

Baekhyun almost yelps in surprise, and just barely manages not to flinch. "I thought you were asleep," he says lamely. Their first conversation resonates in his mind, the one that had started off all those months ago with Baekhyun putting his foot in his mouth while Kyungsoo pretended to sleep.

Ignoring the comment, Kyungsoo opens his eyes, turning his head to the side to fix Baekhyun with a steady gaze. "I love you, too," he says simply, as though the words don't knock Baekhyun's breath out of his lungs more thoroughly than any sucker punch could. And, yeah, maybe he knew, a little bit, that Kyungsoo loves him. But it's different, hearing it out loud, knowing it for real.

Then Kyungsoo adds, a little louder, "Even if I'm in the one place I've told you I don't want to be in for months."

"We were having a moment," Baekhyun laments. "We were having a moment and you absolutely ruined it, oh my God, you asshole."

"I didn't ruin anything," Kyungsoo says, and pulls Baekhyun down to kiss him stupid.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Fur Cue**  
Seether  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:48  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️

  
  


Baekhyun wakes up to the sound of his boyfriend—his _boyfriend,_ wow, that's still so awesome, even three months after they made it official—coming back from his run, the sound of the front door shutting echoing through the house. His official doctor has given him permission to start adding small runs to his exercise routine, as long as he's thorough in doing his stretches before and after. Kyungsoo's pretty good about obeying his official doctor.

Baekhyun, his unofficial doctor, is less likely to be heeded. But he helps out where he can, giving Kyungsoo's knee massages, assisting with stretches, icing the knee. When Baekhyun frets too much, and Kyungsoo reaches his capacity for being babied, Kyungsoo pins him down and fucks him hard enough to remind Baekhyun that he's not going to break any time soon.

So, yeah. Kyungsoo is healing up from his surgery fantastically. He's expected to get full use of his leg back, as long as he sticks with his PT.

As the sound of the shower turns on, Baekhyun searches under the pillow for his phone, stretching out his back with a satisfying crack. He flicks through the notifications on the screen, clearing them out one by one until he gets to one that gives him pause.

 **Interview Opportunity**  
Sender: Hospital of...

Baekhyun's heart does something strange in his chest. He opens up the email, skims through it. The words "interview" and "doctor" and "interested" pop out of him, and he's smiling so hard that he thinks his face might crack open or something else just as ridiculous. He sets his phone back down, rolls over, and screams into the pillow, kicking his feet like a small child. Then he relaxes. He's too excited to be able to reply to the email, now, but he'll do it later. He'll reply by the end of the day.

It's the same hospital that Kyungsoo is using to help him through his leg injury. Coincidence? Fate? Maybe. Baekhyun isn't going to question the opportunity, though. Jumping headfirst into things has done him good so far. Idly, he wonders what he's going to say for previous work experience. It's not like he's going to be able to use Jongdae as a reference.

Jongdae. He refuses to let the name scare him. The man hadn't been in contact with them at all since the night the proverbial shit hit the fan, but he doubts they've seen the last of him. But for now, things are good. They're still friends with the rest of the fighters from the gym, who are surprisingly accepting of Baekhyun's actions. It turns out that many of them had wanted to get out of the business, but were afraid to do anything that could get Jongdae angry at them. Minseok comes over to visit a lot. Through a strange twist events, Jongin has asked out Sehun after meeting him while both he and Sehun were at Kyungsoo's house.

It's not quite their happy ending yet. There are still loose ends. Baekhyun doesn't have a healthcare job yet, even if he's back to working at the cafe for now. Kyungsoo can't do much with himself until his leg is for sure good again, after which Minseok promised he'll pull some strings to get Kyungsoo a job, a sponsorship, even, at a real, _legal_ MMA fighting ring. Jongdae is still out there, lurking.

But, Baekhyun thinks as he hears Kyungsoo come out of the shower, this is a pretty good spot to be in for now. He's safe. He's happy. He's got good friends, and the love of maybe his entire life standing there in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist, showing off the sharp cut of his body, as he . . . holds up his phone? Baekhyun lets himself take a few more seconds to admire the Adonis-like structure of his boyfriend's—his _boyfriend's!_ —body before making himself look at the phone. The screen shows off a song on Spotify, and when Kyungsoo steps closer, Baekhyun recognizes the album cover and immediately laughs.

"What the hell is this doing on my workout playlist?"

"The real question is, 'Why did it take you so long to find it?'" Baekhyun asks playfully, sitting up.

"I have over seven hours of music on this playlist," Kyungsoo says, trying to keep his brows furrowed in a stern glare, but Baekhyun's learned the nuances of Kyungsoo's expression by now, and knows the twitch of his lips when he's trying not to laugh. "Seriously, why did you put this on my playlist? You already have your own playlists."

Adding someone to your Spotify account is one of the truest forms of love. When Baekhyun had told Kyungsoo this, Kyungsoo had rolled his eyes and pushed Baekhyun's face away from his, completely ignoring his puckered lips. "Your music is so screamy," Baekhyun says, flopping back on the bed. He'll tell Kyungsoo about the interview. Later. "You needed something upbeat."

"Screamy?" Kyungsoo says, taking a menacing step forward. "I'll show you screamy." He pounces on Baekhyun.

"Help!" Baekhyun squawks, trying to twist away as Kyungsoo rolls on top of him. "My boyfriend is trying to defile me!" The endeavor is wildly unsuccessful, and results in Kyungsoo straddling Baekhyun's hips with both of Baekhyun's wrists pinned above his head with only one of Kyungsoo's hands.

"You defiled my playlist, you little shit," Kyungsoo snarls. He leans down and nips Baekhyun's nose, making Baekhyun laugh in delight.

"Yeah, but you love me," Baekhyun says, as though that's adequate defense.

Kyungsoo leans down again, their noses brushing together, breaths mingling. Baekhyun can feel water from the tips of Kyungsoo's hair dripping onto his dry skin. "Yeah," Kyungsoo says quietly, his smile warm and glowing, "I do."

Yeah. It's not a happy ending, because nothing has come to an end yet. But what he has now, and his new opportunity for more, that's more than enough.

  
  


PLAYING FROM PLAYLIST  
Kyungsoo's Workout Playlist

**Gee**  
Girls' Generation  
0:00 ~~——————————————~~ 3:20  
🔀 ⏮ ► ⏭ 🔁️


End file.
